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AUTHOR: 


DEWEY,  JOHN 


TITLE: 


INTEREST  AS  RELATED 
TO  WILL 

PLACE: 

CHICAGO 

DA  TE : 

1903 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 
PRESERVATION  DEPARTMENT 


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Original  Material  as  Filmed  -  Existing  Bibliographic  Record 


Restrictions  on  Use: 


513 


'I'l.. '  I 


Dewey,  John,  I859-1952 

Interest  as  related  to  irLll.  c2d  ed.a 
Edited  by  Charles  A.  McMurry,  Chicago,  Uni 
versity  of  Chicago  press,  1903 • 

39  p.  (Second  supplement  to  the  Herbart 
yearbook  for  1895) 

"References":  p.  39, 


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SECOND  SUPPLEMENT 


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Intereet  as  'KelateD  to  Mill 


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BY 


DR.  JOHN  DEWEY 

THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO 


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CHICAGO 
THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO  PRESS 


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SECOND  SUPPLEMENT 


TO  THE 


Herbart  Yearbook 


FOR  1895 


INTEREST  AS  RELATED  TO  WILL 


BY 


DR.  JOHN   DEWEY 

OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO 


EDITBD  BV 

CHARLES  A.  McMURRY 

SECRETARY  OF  THE  SOCIETY 


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■Composed  and  Printed  By 

The  University  of  Chicago  Press 

Chicago,  Illinois,  U.  S.  A. 


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« 


PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  SECOND  EDITION 


In  this  second  edition  considerable  change  has  been  made.  In 
the  first  place,  I  have  tried  by  excision  and  rewriting  to  state  the 
underlying  psychology  in  somewhat  less  abstract  and  formal  fashion. 
In  the  second  place,  some  portions,  especially  of  Part  III,  were  origi- 
nally called  out  by  the  state  of  discussion  when  this  article  was  first 
written.  The  only  excuse  for  controversy  is  to  make  itself  unnecessary, 
and  I  believe  there  is  sufficient  advance  in  mutual  understanding  to 
make  possible  considerable  omission  here.  The  space  thus  saved  has 
been  given  to  a  fuller  discussion  of  the  more  distinctly  educational 
aspects.  I  would  suggest  to  those  specially  interested  in  the  educa- 
tional side  to  read  Parts  I  and  IV  first,  and  more  thoroughly;  Parts  II 
and  III  afterward,  and  more  casually. 

Dr.  Charles  DeGarmo  has  supplied  this  second  edition  with  topical 
headings  to  bring  out  more  distinctly  the  significant  points  nnder 
discussion. 

See  p.  40  and  third  cover  for  terms  of  membership  and  list  of  pub- 
lications of  the  National  Herbart  Society. 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO  TRAINING 

OF  THE  WILL. 


Dr.  John  Dewey,  University  of  Chicago. 


INTRODUCTION. 

There  is  much  the  same  difficulty  in  isolating  any  educational  topic 
for  discussion  that  there  is  in  the  case  of  philosophy.  The  issues  are 
so  interdependent  that  any  one  of  them  can  be  selected  only  at  the 
risk  of  ignoring  important  considerations,  or  else  of  begging  the  ques- 
tion by  bringing  in  the  very  problem  under  discussion  in  the  guise  of 
some  other  subject.  Yet  limits  of  time  and  space  require  that  some 
one  field  be  entered  and  occupied  by  itself.  Under  such  circumstances 
about  all  one  can  do  is  to  pursue  a  method  which  shall  at  least  call 
attention  to  the  problems  involved,  and  to  indicate  the  main  relations 
of  the  matters  discussed  to  relevant  topics.  The  difficulty  is  particu- 
larly great  in  the  discussion  of  interest.  Interest  is  in  the  closest 
relation  to  the  emotional  life,  on  one  side;  and,  through  its  close 
relation,  if  not  identity,  with  attention,  to  the  intellectual  life,  on  the 
other  side.  Any  adequate  explanation  of  it,  therefore,  would  require 
the  development  of  the  complete  psychology  both  of  feeling  and  of 
knowledge,  and  of  their  relations  to  each  other,  and  the  discussion  of 
their  connection  or  lack  of  connection  with  volition. 

Accordingly,  I  can  only  hope  to  bring  out  what  seem  to  me  to  be 
the  salient  points,  and  if  my  results  do  not  command  agreement,  help 
at  least  define  the  problem  for  further  discussion. 

While  it  would  be  sanguine  to  anticipate  agreement  upon  any 
important  educational  doctrine,  there  is  perhaps  more  hope  of  reaching 
a  working  consensus  by  beginning  with  the  educational  side.  If  we 
can  lay  down  some  general  principle  regarding  the  place  and  function 
of  interest  in  the  school,  we  shall  have  a  more  or  less  sure  basis  from 
which  to  proceed  to  the  psychological  analysis  of  interest.  At  all 
events,  we  shall  have  limited  the  field  and  fixed  the  boundaries  within 
which  the  psychological  discussion  may  proceed.  After  this  we  shall 
proceed  to  the  discussion  of  some  of  the  chief  attitudes  assumed  toward 
the  problem  of  interest  in  historic  and  current  investigations.    Finally, 

5 


>i! 


5  INTEREST  IN  RELA  TION  TO 

we  may  return  with  the  results  reached  by  this  psychological  and 
critical  consideration  to  the  educational  matter  with  more  definite 
emphasis  upon  the  question  of  moral  training. 

I. 

At  first  sight  the  hope  of  gaining  a  working  consensus  regarding 
interest  on  the  educational  side  seems  futile.     The  first  thing  that 

strikes  us  is  the  profound  contradiction  in  current  edu- 
interestr'^.  cational  ideas  and  standards  regarding  this    matter  of 

S'tio'L;;^wsL.  interest.     On  the  one  hand,  we  have  the  doctrine  that 

interest  is  the  keynote  both  of  instruction  and  of  moral 
training,  that  the  essential  problem  of  the  teacher  is  to  make  the 
material  presented  so  interesting  that  it  shall  command  and  retain 
attention.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have  the  assertion  that  the  putting 
forth  of  effort  from  within  is  alone  truly  educative ;  that  to  rely  upon 
the  principle  of  interest  is  to  distract  the  child  intellectually  and  to 

weaken  him  morally. 

In  this  educational  lawsuit  of  interest  versus  effort  let  us  consider 
the  respective  briefs  of  plaintiff  and  defendant.  In  behalf  of  interest 
it  is  claimed  that  it  is  the  sole  guarantee  of  attention ;  that,  if  we  can 
secure  interest  in  a  given  set  of  facts  or  ideas,  we  may  be  perfectly 
sure  that  the  pupil  will  direct  his  energies  toward  mastering  them ; 
that,  if  we  can  secure  interest  in  a  certain  moral  train  or  line  of  con- 
duct, we  are  equally  safe  in  assuming  that  the  child's  activities  are 
responding  in  that  direction  ;  that,  if  we  have  not  secured  interest,  we 
have  no  safeguard  as  to  what  will  be  done  in  any  given  case.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  doctrine  of  discipline  has  not  succeeded.  It  is 
absurd  to  suppose  that  a  child  gets  more  intellectual  or  mental  disci- 
pline  when  he  goes  at  a  matter  unwillingly  than  when  he  goes  at  it 
with  complete  interest  and  out  of  the  fullness  of  his  heart.  The 
theory  of  effort  simply  says  that  unwilling  attention  (doing  something 
which  is  disagreeable  and  because  it  is  disagreeable)  should  take  pre- 
cedence over  spontaneous  attention. 

Practically  the  theory  of  effort  amounts  to  nothing.  When  a  child 
feels  that  his  work  is  a  task,  it  is  only  under  compulsion  that  he  gives 
himself  to  it.  At  the  least  let-up  of  external  pressure  we  find  his 
attention  at  once  directed  to  what  interests  him.  The  child  brought 
up  on  the  basis  of  the  theory  of  effort  simply  acquires  marvelous  skill 
in  appearing  to  be  occupied  with  an  uninteresting  subject,  while  the 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL  7 

real  heart  and  core  of  his  energies  are  otherwise  engaged.  Indeed, 
the  theory  contradicts  itself.  It  is  psychologically  impossible  to  call 
forth  any  activity  without  some  interest.  The  theory  of  effort  simply 
substitutes  one  interest  for  another.  It  substitutes  the  impure  interest 
of  fear  of  the  teacher  or  hope  of  future  reward  for  pure  interest  in  the 
material  presented.  The  type  of  character  induced  is  that  illustrated 
by  Emerson  at  the  beginning  of  his  essay  on  Compensation,  where  he 
holds  up  the  current  doctrine  of  compensation  as  virtually  implying 
that,  if  you  only  sacrifice  yourself  enough  now,  you  will  be  permitted 
to  indulge  yourself  a  great  deal  more  in  the  future ;  or,  if  you  are  only 
good  now  (goodness  consisting  in  attention  to  what  is  uninteresting) 
you  will  have,  at  some  future  time,  a  great  many  more  pleasing  inter- 
ests —  that  is,  may  then  be  bad. 

While  the  theory  of  effort  is  always  holding  up  to  us  a  strong, 
vigorous  character  as  the  outcome  of  its  method  of  education,  practi- 
\  cally  we  do  not  get  this  character.  We  get  either  the  narrow,  bigoted 
man  who  is  obstinate  and  irresponsible  save  in  the  line  of  his  own 
preconceived  aims  and  beliefs;  or  else  we  get  a  character  dull, 
mechanical,  unalert,  because  the  vital  juice  of  the  principle  of  spon- 
taneous interest  has  been  squeezed  out  of  it. 

We  may  now  hear  the  defendant's  case.  Life,  says  the  other 
theory,  is  full  of  things  not  interesting,  but  which  have  to  be  faced 
none  the  less.  Demands  are  continually  made,  situations  have  to  be 
dealt  with,  which  present  no  features  of  interest.  Unless  the  indi- 
vidual has  had  previous  training  in  devoting  himself  to  uninteresting 
work,  unless  habits  have  been  formed  of  attending  to  matters  simply 
because  they  must  be  attended  to,  irrespective  of  the  personal  satisfac- 
tion gotten  out  of  them,  character  will  either  break  down,  or  avoid  the 
issue,  when  confronted  with  the  more  serious  matters  of  life.  Life  is 
too  serious  to  be  degraded  to  a  merely  pleasant  affair,  or  reduced  to 
the  continual  satisfaction  of  personal  interests.  The  concerns  of  future 
life,  therefore,  imperatively  demand  such  continual  exercise  of  effort  in 
the  performance  of  tasks  as  to  form  the  habit  of  recognizing  the  real 
labors  of  life.  Anything  else  eats  out  the  fiber  of  character  and 
reduces  the  person  to  a  wishy  washy,  colorless  being  ;  or  else  to  a  state 
of  moral  dependence,  with  over-reliance  upon  others  and  with  con- 
tinual demand  for  amusement  and  distraction. 

Apart  from  the  question  of  the  future,  continually  to  appeal  even 
in  childhood  days  to  the  principle  of  interest  is  eternally  to  excite, 


8 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


that  is,  distract  the  child.  Continuity  of  activity  is  destroyed.  Every- 
thing is  made  play,  amusement.  This  means  over-stimulation  ;  it 
means  dissipation  of  energy.  Will  is  never  called  into  action  at  all. 
The  reliance  is  upon  external  attractions  and  amusements.  Every- 
thing is  sugar-coated  for  the  child,  and  he  soon  learns  to  turn  from 
everything  which  is  not  artificially  surrounded  with  diverting  circum- 
stances. The  spoiled  child  who  does  only  what  he  likes  is  the  inevita- 
ble outcome  of  the  theory  of  interest  in  education. 

The  theory  is  intellectually  as  well  as  morally  harmful.  Attention 
is  never  directed  to  the  essential  and  important  facts.  It  is  directed 
simply  to  the  wrappings  of  attraction  with  which  the  facts  are  sur- 
rounded. If  a  fact  is  repulsive  or  uninteresting,  it  has  to  be  faced  in 
its  own  naked  character  sooner  or  later.  Putting  a  fringe  of  fictitious 
interest  around  it  does  not  bring  the  child  any  nearer  to  it  than  he  was 
at  the  outset.  The  fact  that  two  and  two  make  four  is  a  naked  fact 
which  has  to  be  mastered  in  and  of  itself.  The  child  gets  no  greater 
hold  upon  the  fact  by  having  attached  to  it  amusing  stories  of  birds  or 
dandelions  than  he  would  if  the  simple  naked  fact  were  presented  to 
him.  It  is  self-deception  to  suppose  that  the  child  is  being  interested 
in  the  numerical  relation.  His  attention  is  going  out  to  and  taking  in 
only  the  amusing  images  associated  with  this  relation.  The  theory 
thus  defeats  its  own  end.  It  would  be  more  direct  and  straightforward 
to  recognize  at  the  outset  that  certain  facts  have  to  be  learned  which 
have  little  or  no  interest,  and  that  the  only  way  to  deal  with  these  facts 
is  through  the  power  of  effort,  the  internal  power  of  putting  forth 
activity  wholly  independent  of  any  external  inducement.  Moreover, 
in  this  way  the  discipline,  the  habit  of  responding  to  serious  matters, 
is  formed  which  is  necessary  to  equip  the  child  for  the  life  that  lies 
ahead  of  him. 

I  have  attempted  to  set  forth  the  respective  claims  of  each  side  as 
we  find  them,  not  only  in  current  discussions,  but  in  the  old  contro- 
versy, as  old  as  Plato  and  Aristotle.  A  little  reflection 
will  convince  one  that  the  strong  point  in  each  argument 
is  not  so  much  what  it  says  in  its  own  behalf  as  in  its  attacks  on  the 
weak  places  of  the  opposite  theory.  Each  theory  is  strong  in  its  nega- 
tions rather  than  in  its  position.  It  is  a  common,  though  somewhat 
surprising,  fact  that  there  is  generally  a  common  principle  uncon- 
sciously assumed  at  the  basis  of  two  theories  which  to  all  outward 
appearances  are  the  extreme  opposites  of  each  other.     Such  a  common 


1 


The  Verdict. 


) 


i 


] 


t 


principle  is  presupposed  by  the  theories  of  effort  and  interest  in  the 
one-sided  forms  in  which  they  have  already  been  stated. 

This  identical  assumption  is  the  externality  of  the  object  or  idea  to 
be  mastered,  the  end  to  be  reached,  the  act  to  be  performed,  to  the 
self.  It  is  because  the  object  or  end  is  assumed  to  be  outside  self  that 
it  has  to  be  made  interesting,  that  it  has  to  be  surrounded  with  artificial 
stimuli  and  with  fictitious  inducements  to  attention.  It  is  equally 
because  the  object  lies  outside  the  sphere  of  self  that  the  sheer  power 
of  "  will,"  the  putting  forth  of  effort  without  interest,  has  to  be  appealed 
to.  The  genuine  principle  of  interest  is  the  principle  of  the  recognized 
identity  of  the  fact  or  proposed  line  of  action  with  the  self ;  that  it  lies 
in  the  direction  of  the  agent's  own  growth,  and  is,  therefore,  imperi- 
ously demanded,  if  the  agent  is  to  be  himself.  Let  this  condition  of 
identification  once  be  secured,  and  we  neither  have  to  appeal  to  sheer 
strength  of  will,  nor  do  we  have  to  occupy  ourselves  with  making  things 
interesting  to  the  child. 

The  theory  of  effort,  as  already  stated,  means  a  virtual  division  of 
attention  and  the  corresponding  disintegration  of  character,  intellectu- 
Divided  ally  and  morally.     The  great  fallacy  of  the    so-called 

Attention.  effort  theory  is  that  it  identifies  the  exercise  and  training 

of  will  with  certain  external  activities  and  certain  external  results.  It 
is  supposed  that,  because  a  child  is  occupied  at  some  outward  task  and 
because  he  succeeds  in  exhibiting  the  required  product,  that  he  is  really 
putting  forth  will,  and  that  definite  intellectual  and  moral  habits  are 
in  process  of  formation.  But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  moral  exercise 
of  the  will  is  not  found  in  the  external  assumption  of  any  posture,  and 
the  formation  of  moral  habit  cannot  be  identified  with  the  ability  to 
show  up  results  at  the  demand  of  another.  The  exercise  of  the  will  is 
manifest  in  the  direction  of  attention,  and  depends  upon  the  spirit,  the 
motive,  the  disposition  in  which  work  is  carried  on. 

A  child  may  be  externally  entirely  occupied  with  mastering  the  mul- 
tiplication table,  and  be  able  to  reproduce  that  table  when  asked  to  do 
so  by  his  teacher.  The  teacher  may  congratulate  himself  that  the  child 
has  been  so  exercising  his  will  power  as  to  be  forming  right  intellectual 
and  moral  habits.  Not  so,  unless  moral  habit  be  identified  with  this 
ability  to  show  certain  results  when  required.  The  question  of  moral 
training  has  not  been  touched  until  we  know  what  the  child  has  been 
internally  occupied  with,  what  the  predominating  direction  of  his  atten- 
tion, his  feelings,  his  disposition  has  been  while  engaged  upon  this  task. 


,1' 


lO 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


II 


If  the  task  has  appealed  to  him  merely  as  a  task,  it  is  as  certain,  psycho- 
logically, as  the  law  of  action  and  reaction  is,  physically,  that  the  child 
is  simply  engaged  in  acquiring  the  habit  of  divided  attention  ;  that  he 
is  getting  the  ability  to  direct  eye  and  ear,  lips  and  mouth,  to  what  is 
present  before  him  in  such  a  way  as  to  impress  those  things  upon  his 
memory,  while  at  the  same  time  getting  his  mental  imagery  free  to  work 
upon  matters  of  real  interest  to  him. 

No  account  of  the  actual  moral  training  secured  is  adequate  unless 
it  recognizes  this  division  of  attention  into  which  the  child  is  being 
educated,  and  faces  the  question  of  what  the  moral  worth  of  such  a 
division  may  be.  External  mechanical  attention  to  a  task  conceived  as 
a  task  is  the  inevitable  correlate  of  an  internal  random  mind-wandering 
along  the  lines  of  the  pleasurable. 

The  spontaneous  power  of  the  child,  his  demand  for  realization  of 
his  own  impulses,  cannot  by  any  possibility  be  suppressed.  If  the 
external  conditions  are  such  that  the  child  cannot  put  his  spontaneous 
activity  into  the  work  to  be  done,  if  he  finds  that  he  cannot  express 
himself  in  that,  he  learns  in  a  most  miraculous  way  the  exact  amount 
of  attention  that  has  to  be  given  to  this  external  material  to  satisfy  the 
requirements  of  the  teacher,  while  saving  up  the  rest  of  his  mental 
powers  for  following  out  lines  of  imagery  that  appeal  to  him.  I  do  not 
say  that  there  is  absolutely  no  moral  training  involved  in  forming  these 
habits  of  external  attention,  but  I  do  say  that  there  is  a  question  of  moral 
import  involved  in  the  formation  of  the  habits  of  internal  inattention. 

While  we  are  congratulating  ourselves  upon  the  well-disciplined 
habits  which  the  pupil  is  acquiring,  judged  by  his  ability  to  reproduce 
a  lesson  when  called  upon,  we  forget  to  commiserate  ourselves  because 
the  deeper  intellectual  and  moral  nature  of  the  child  has  secured  abso- 
lutely no  discipline  at  all,  but  has  been  left  to  follow  its  own  caprices, 
the  disordered  suggestions  of  the  moment,  or  of  past  experience.  I  do 
not  see  how  anyone  can  deny  that  the  training  of  this  internal  imagery 
is  at  least  equally  important  with  the  development  of  certain  outward 
habits  of  action.  For  myself,  when  it  comes  to  the  mere  moral  question 
and  not  a  question  of  practical  convenience,  I  think  it  is  infinitely  more 
important.  Nor  do  I  see  how  anyone  at  all  familiar  with  the  great  mass 
of  existing  school  work  can  deny  that  the  greater  part  of  the  pupils  are 
gradually  forming  habits  of  divided  attention.  If  the  teacher  is  skillful 
and  wide-awake,  if  she  is  what  is  termed  a  good  disciplinarian,  the  child 
will  indeed  learn  to  keep  his  senses  intent  in  certain  ways,  but  he  will 


also  learn  to  direct  the  fruitful  imagery,  which  constitutes  the  value  of 
what  is  before  his  senses,  in  totally  other  directions.  It  would  not  be 
wholly  palatable  to  have  to  face  the  actual  psychological  condition  of 
the  majority  of  the  pupils  that  leave  our  schools.  We  should  find  this 
division  of  attention  and  the  resulting  disintegration  so  great  that  we 
might  cease  teaching  in  sheer  disgust.  None  the  less,  it  is  well  for  us 
to  recognize  that  this  state  of  things  exists,  and  that  it  is  the  inevitable 
outcome  of  those  conditions  which  require  the  simulation  of  attention 
without  requiring  its  essence. 

The  principle  of  making  objects  and  ideas  interesting  implies  the 
same  divorce  between  object  and  self  as  does  the  theory  of  "effort." 
Biaking  Things  When  things  have  to  be  made  interesting,  it  is  because 
interestiiig.  interest  itself  is  wanting.     Moreover,  the  phrase  is  a  mis- 

nomer. The  thing,  the  object,  is  no  more  interesting  than  it  was  before. 
The  appeal  is  simply  made  to  the  child's  love  of  pleasure.  He  is 
excited  in  a  given  direction,  with  the  hope  that  somehow  or  other 
during  this  excitation  he  will  assimilate  something  otherwise  repulsive. 
There  are  two  types  of  pleasure.  One  is  the  accompaniment  of  activ- 
ity. It  is  found  wherever  there  is  self-expression.  It  is  simply  the 
internal  realization  of  the  outgoing  energy.  This  sort  of  pleasure  is 
always  absorbed  in  the  activity  itself.  It  has  no  separate  existence  in 
consciousness.  This  is  the  type  of  pleasure  found  in  legitimate  interest. 
Its  stimulus  is  found  in  the  needs  of  the  organism.  The  other  sort  of 
pleasure  arises  from  contact.  It  marks  receptivity.  Its  stimuli  are 
external.  We  take  interest ;  we  get  pleasure.  The  type  of  pleasure 
which  arises  from  external  stimulation  is  isolated.  It  exists  by  itself 
in  consciousness  as  a  pleasure,  not  as  the  pleasure  of  activity. 

When  objects  are  made  interesting,  it  is  this  latter  type  of  pleasure 
that  comes  into  play.  Advantage  is  taken  of  the  fact  that  a  certain 
amount  of  excitation  of  any  organ  is  pleasurable.  The  pleasure  arising 
is  employed  to  cover  the  gap  between  self  and  some  fact  not  in  itself 
arousing  interest. 

The  result  here  also  is  division  of  energies.  In  the  case  of  dis- 
agreeable effort  the  division  is  simultaneous.  In  this  case  it  is  succes- 
^.  .  sive.     Instead  of  having  a  mechanical,  external  activity 

DiYision  J  J  .  ,         .  ^ 

of  Bnergies.         ^^^  ^  random  internal  activity  at  the  same  time,  there  is 
oscillation  of  excitement  and  apathy.     The  child  alter- 
nates between  periods  of  overstimulation  and  of  inertness.     It  is  a 
condition  realized  in  some  so-called  kindergartens.     Moreover,  this 


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excitation  of  any  particular  organ,  as  eye  or  ear,  by  itself,  creates  an 
abiding  demand  for  such  stimulation.  It  is  as  possible  to  create  an 
appetite  on  the  part  of  the  eye  or  the  ear  for  pleasurable  stimulation 
as  it  is  on  the  part  of  the  taste.  Some  kindergarten  children  are  as 
dependent  upon  the  recurrent  presence  of  bright  colors  or  agreeable 
sounds  as  the  drunkard  is  upon  his  dram.  It  is  this  which  accounts 
for  the  distraction  and  dissipation  of  energy  so  characteristic  of  such 
children,  and  for  their  dependence  upon  external  suggestion. 

Before  attempting  a  more  specific  psychological  analysis,  the  dis- 
cussion up  to  this  point  may  be  summarized  as  follows:  Genuine 
interest  in  education  is  the  accompaniment  of  the  iden- 
smninary.  tification,  through  action,  of  the  self  with  some  object  or 

idea,  because  of  the  necessity  of  that  object  or  idea  for  the  maintenance 
of  self-expression.  Effort,  in  the  sense  in  which  it  may  be  opposed  to 
interest,  implies  a  separation  between  the  self  and  the  fact  to  be  mas- 
tered  or  task  to  be  performed,  and  sets  up  an  habitual  division  o 
activities.  Externally,  we  have  mechanical  habits  with  no  psychical 
end  or  value.  Internally,  we  have  random  energy  or  mind-wandering, 
a  sequence  of  ideas  with  no  end  at  all,  because  not  brought  to  a  focus 
in  action.  Interest,  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  opposed  to  effort, 
mpans  simply  an  excitation  of  the  sense  organ  to  give  pleasure,  result- 
ing in  strain  on  one  side  and  listlessness  on  the  other. 

r-  But  when  we  recognize  there  are  certain  powers  within  the  child 
urgent  for  development,  needing  to  be  acted  upon,  in  order  to  secure 
their  own  due  efficiency  and  discipline,  we  have  a  firm  basis  upon 
which  to  build.  Effort  drises  normally  in  the  attempt  to  give  full  oper- 
ation,  and  thus  growth  and  completion,  to  these  powers.  Adequately 
to  act  upon  these  impulses  involves  seriousness,  absorption,  definite- 
ness  of  purpose,  and  results  in  formation  of  steadiness  and  persistent 
habit  in  the  service  of  worthy  ends.  But  this  effort  never  degenerates 
into  drudgery,  or  mere  strain  of  dead  lift,  because  interest  abides-the 
self  is  concerned  throughout. 

II. 

We  come  now  to  our  second  main  topic,  the  psychology  of  interest. 
It  should  be  obvious,  from  the  preceding  educational  discussion,  that 
The  Psychology  the  points  upon  which  we  particularly  need  enlighten. 
<rf  interest.  ment  are  its  relation  to  desire  and  pleasure  on  one  side, 

to  ideas  and  effort  on  the  other. 


I  begin  with  a  brief  descriptive  account  of  interest.  Interest  is 
nrst  active,  projective,  or  propulsive.  We  take  interest.  To  be  inter- 
ested in  any  matter  is  to  be  actively  concerned  with  it.  The  mere 
feeling  regarding  a  subject  may  be  static  or  inert,  but  interest  is 
dynamic.  Second,  it  is  objective.  We  say  a  man  has  many  interests 
to  care  for  or  look  after.  We  talk  about  the  range  of  a  man*s  inter- 
ests, his  business  interests,  local  interests,  etc.  We  identify  interests 
with  concerns  or  affairs.  Interest  does  not  end  simply  in  itself,  as  bare 
feelings  may,  but  always  has  some  object,  end,  or  aim  to  which  it 
attaches  itself.  Third,  interest  is  subjective ;  it  signifies  an  internal, 
realization,  or  feeling,  of  worth.  It  has  its  emotional  as  well  as  its 
active  and  objective  sides.  Wherever  there  is  interest  there  is  response 
in  the  way  of  feeling. 

These  are  the  various  meanings  in  which  common  sense  employs 
the  term  interest.  The  root  idea  of  the  term  seems  to  be  that  of  being 
engaged,  engrossed,  or  entirely  taken  up  with  some  activity  because  of 
its  recognized  worth.  The  etymology  of  the  term  inter-esse,  "  to  be 
between,"  points  in  the  same  direction.  Interest  marks  the  annihila- 
tion of  the  distance  between  the  person  and  the  materials  and  results 
of  his  action ;  it  is  the  instrument  which  effects  their  organic  union.* 

We  have  now  to  deal  more  in  detail  with  each  of  the  three  phases 
mentioned : 

I.  The  active  or  propulsive  phase  of  interest  takes  us  back  to  the 
consideration  of  impulse  and  the  spontaneous  urgencies  or  tendencies 

of  activity.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  absolutely  diffuse, 
Phase  ofintwest   i^^P^irtial   impulse.      Impulse   is   always    differentiated 

along  some  more  or  less  specific  channel.  Impulse  has 
its  own  special  lines  of  discharge.  The  old  puzzle  about  the  ass 
between  two  bundles  of  hay  is  only  too  familiar,  but  the  recognition  of 
its  fundamental  fallacy  is  not  so  common.  If  the  self  were  purely  pas- 
sive or  purely  indifferent,  waiting  upon  stimulation  from  without,  then 

'  It  is  true  that  the  term  interest  is  also  used  in  a  definitely  disparaging  sense. 
We  speak  of  interest  as  opposed  to  principle,  of  self-interest  as  a  motive  to  action 
which  regards  only  one's  personal  advantage  ;  but  these  are  neither  the  only  nor  the 
controlling  senses  in  which  the  term  is  used.  It  may  fairly  be  questioned  whether 
this  is  anything  but  a  narrowing  or  degrading  of  the  legitimate  sense  of  the  term. 
However  that  may  be,  it  appears  to  me  certain  that  much  of  the  controversy  regarding 
the  moral  use  of  interest  arises  because  one  party  is  using  the  term  in  the  larger, 
objective  sense  of  recognized  value  or  engrossing  activity,  while  the  other  is  using  it 
as  equivalent  to  selfish  motive. 


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the  self  illustrated  in  this  supposed  example  would  remain  forever 
helpless,  starving  to  death,  because  of  its  equipoise  between  two 
sources  of  food.  The  error  is  in  the  supposition  of  this  balanced 
internal  condition.  The  self  is  always  already  doing  something,  intent 
on  something  urgent.  And  this  ongoing  activity  always  gives  it  a 
bent  in  one  direction  rather  than  another.  The  ass,  in  other  words,  is 
always  already  moving  toward  one  bundle  rather  than  the  other.  No 
amount  of  physical  cross-eyedness  could  induce  such  psychical  cross- 
eyedness  that  the  animal  would  be  in  a  condition  of  equal  stimulation 
from  both  sides. 

In  this  primitive  condition  of  spontaneous,  impulsive  activity  we 
have  the  basis  for  natural  interest.  Interest  is  no  more  passively 
waiting  around  to  be  excited  from  the  outside  than  is  impulse.  In  the 
selective  or  preferential  quality  of  impulse  we  have  the  basis  of  the  fact 
that  at  any  given  time,  if  we  are  psychically  awake  at  all,  we  are  always 
interested  in  one  direction  rather  than  another.  The  condition  of 
total  lack  of  interest,  or  of  absolutely  impartially  distributed  interest, 
is  as  mythical  as  the  story  of  the  ass  in  scholastic  ethics. 

An  equally  great  fallacy  is  the  oft-made  assumption  of  some  chasm 
between  impulse  and  the  self.  Impulse  is  spoken  of  as  if  it  were  a 
force  swaying  the  self  in  this  direction  or  that ;  as  if  the  self  were  an 
indifferent,  passive  something  waiting  to  be  moved  by  the  pressure  of 
impulse ;  in  reality,  impulse  is  simply  the  impetus  or  outgoing  of  the 
self  in  one  direction  or  other.  This  point  is  mentioned  now  because 
the  connection  of  impulse  and  interest  is  so  close  that  any  assumption 
at  this  point  of  impulse  as  external  to  self  is  sure  to  manifest  itself 
later  on  in  the  assumption  that  interest  is  of  the  nature  of  an  external 
inducement  or  attraction  to  self,  instead  of  being  an  absorption  of  the 
activities  of  the  self  in  the  object  that  allows  these  activities  to  func- 
tion. 

2.  The  objective  side  of  interest.     Every  interest,  as  already  said, 

attaches  itself  to  an  object.     The  artist  is  interested  in  his  brushes,  in 

his  colors,  in  his  technique.     The  business  man  is  inter- 

Side  of^toterest  ^^^^^  *^  ^^^  P^^^  ^^  supply  and  demand,  in  the  move- 
ment of  markets,  etc.  Take  whatever  instance  of 
interest  we  choose,  and  we  shall  find  that,  if  we  cut  out  the  factor  of 
the  object  about  which  interest  clusters,  interest  itself  disappears, 
relapsing  into  mere  subjective  feeling. 

Error  begins  in  supposing  the  object  already  there,  and  then  call- 


ing the  activity  into  being.  Canvas,  brushes,  and  paints  interest  the 
artist,  for  example,  only  because  they  help  him  find  his  existing 
artistic  capacity.  There  is  nothing  in  a  wheel  and  a  piece  of  string  to 
arouse  a  child's  activity  save  as  they  stimulate  some  instinct  or  impulse 
already  active,  and  supply  it  with  the  means  of  its  execution.  The 
number  twelve  is  uninteresting  when  it  is  a  bare,  external  fact ;  it  has 
interest  (just  as  has  the  top  or  wheelbarrow  or  toy  locomotive)  when 
it  presents  itself  as  an  instrument  of  carrying  into  effect  some  dawning 
energy  or  desire  —  making  a  box,  measuring  one's  height,  etc.  And 
in  its  difference  of  degree  exactly  the  same  principle  holds  of  the  most 
technical  items  of  scientific  or  historic  knowledge  —  whatever  furthers 
one,  helps  mental  movement,  is  of  necessary  and  intrinsic  interest. 

3.  We  now  come  to  the  emotional  phase.  Value  is  not  only 
objective,  but  subjective.     That  is,  there  is  not  only  the  thing  which  is 

projected  as  valuable  or  worth  while,  but  there  is  also 
^interest.^^**  ^^^  feeling  of  its  worth.     It  is,  of  course,  impossible  to 

define  feeling.  We  can  only  say  that  it  is  the  purely 
important,  individual  consciousness  of  worth,  and  recognize  that 
wherever  we  have  interest  there  we  have  internal  realization  of  value. 

The  gist  of  the  psychology  of  interest  may,  accordingly,  be  stated 
as  follows:  An  interest  is  primarily  a  form  of  self-expressive  activity 
— that  is,  of  growth  through  acting  upon  nascent  tendencies.  If  we 
examine  this  activity  on  the  side  of  the  content  of  expression,  of  what 
is  done,  we  get  its  objective  features,  the  ideas,  objects,  etc.,  to  which 
the  interest  is  attached,  about  which  it  clusters.  If  we  take  into 
account  that  it  is  self-expression,  that  self  finds  itself,  is  reflected  back 
to  itself,  in  this  content,  we  get  its  emotional  or  feeling  side.  Any 
account  of  genuine  interest  must,  therefore,  grasp  *it  a^  outgoing 
activity  holding  within  its  grasp  an  intellectual  content,  and  reflecting 
itself  in  felt  value. 

There  are  cases  where  self-expression  is  direct  and  immediate.  It 
puts  itself  forthwith  no  thought  of  anything  beyond.  The  present 
Mediate  vs.  im-  ^^^^^^^^7  ^^  the  only  ultimate  in  consciousness.  It  satis- 
mediate  Interest-  fies  in  and  of  itself.  The  end  is  the  present  activity, 
^rk  vs.  Drudg-  ^nd  SO  there  is  no  gap  in  space  nor  time  between  means 
and  end.  All  play  is  of  this  immediate  character.  All 
purely  aesthetic  appreciation  approximates  this  type.  The  existing 
experience  holds  us  for  its  own  sake,  and  we  do  not  demand  of  it  that 
it  takes  us  into  something  beyond  itself.     With  the  child  and  his  ball, 


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the  amateur  and  the  hearing  of  a  symphony,  the  immediate  engrosses. 
Its  value  is  there,  and  is  there  in  what  is  directly  present. 

We  may,  if  we  choose,  say  that  the  interest  is  in  the  object  present 
to  the  senses,  but  we  must  beware  how  we  interpret  this  saying.  The 
object  has  no  conscious  existence,  at  the  time,  save  in  the  activity. 
The  ball  to  the  child  is  his  game,  his  game  is  his  ball.  The  music  has 
no  existence  save  in  the  rapt  hearing  of  the  music — so  long  as  the 
interest  is  immediate  or  aesthetic.  It  is  frequently  said  to  be  the  object 
which  attracts  attention,  which  calls  forth  interest  to  itself  by  its  own 
inherent  qualities.  But  this  is  a  psychological  impossibility.  The 
bright  color,  the  sweet  sound,  that  interest  the  child  are  themselves 
phases  of  his  organic  activity.  To  say  the  child  attends  to  the  color 
does  not  mean  that  he  gives  himself  up  to  an  external  object,  but 
rather  that  he  continues  the  activity  which  results  in  the  presence  of 
the  color.  His  own  activity  so  engrosses  him  that  he  endeavors  to 
maintain  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  have  cases  of  indirect,  transferred,  or,  tech- 
nically, mediated  interest.  That  is,  things  indifferent  or  even  repulsive 
in  themselves  often  become  of  interest  because  of  their  assuming  rela- 
tionships and  connections  of  which  we  are  previously  unaware.  Many 
a  student,  of  so-called  practical  make-up,  has  found  mathematical 
theory,  once  repellant,  lit  up  by  great  attractiveness  when  he  studied 
some  form  of  engineering  in  which  this  theory  was  a  necessary  tool. 
The  musical  score  and  the  technique  of  fingering,  in  which  the  child 
can  find  no  interest  when  it  is  presented  as  an  end  in  itself,  when  it  is 
isolated,  becomes  fascinating  when  the  child  realizes  its  place  and  bear- 
ings in  helping  him  give  better  and  fuller  utterance  to  his  love  of  song. 
It  is  all  a  question  of  relationship,  whether  it  appeals  or  fails  to  appeal ; 
and  while  the  little  child  takes  only  a  near  view  of  things,  as  he  grows 
he  becomes  capable  of  extending  his  range,  and  seeing  an  act,  or  a 
thing,  or  a  fact,  not  by  itself,  but  in  its  value  as  part  of  a  larger  whole. 
If  this  whole  belongs  to  him,  if  it  is  a  mode  of  his  own  movement,  then 
the  particular  gains  interest  too. 

Here,  and  here  only,  we  have  the  reality  of  the  idea  of  "making 
things  interesting."  I  know  of  no  more  demoralizing  doctrine — when 
taken  literally — than  the  assertion  of  some  of  the  opponents  of  interest 
that  after  subject-matter  has  been  selected,  then  the  teacher  should  make 
it  interesting.  This  combines  in  itself  two  thoroughgoing  errors.  On 
one  side,  it  makes  the  selection  of  subject-matter  a  matter  quite  inde- 


pendent of  the  question  of  interest— and  thus  of  the  child's  own  native 
urgencies  and  needs;  and,  further,  it  reduces  method  in  teaching  to 
more  or  less  external  and  artificial  devices  for  dressing  up  the  unrelated 
materials,  so  that  it  will  get  some  hold  upon  attention.  In  reality,  the 
principle  of  "making  things  interesting"  means  that  subjects  shall  be 
selected  in  relation  to  the  child's  present  experience,  powers,  and  needs; 
and  that  (in  case  he  does  not  perceive  or  appreciate  this  relevancy)  the 
teacher  shall  present  the  new  material  in  such  a  way  as  to  enable  the 
child  to  appreciate  its  bearings,  its  relationships,  its  necessity  for  him. 
It  IS  this  bringing  of  the  child  to  consciousness  in  new  materia/ which  con- 
stitutes the  reality  of  what  is  so  often  perverted,  both  by  friend  and  foe, 
in  the  idea  of  "making  things  interesting." 

In  other  words,  the  problem  is  one  of  the  degree  of  intrinsic  con- 
nection furnished  as  a  motive  for  attention.     The  teacher  who  tells 
the  child  he  will  be  kept  after  school  if  he  doesn't  recite  his  geography 
lesson  better^    is  appealing  to  the    psychology  of  mediate  interest. 
The  former  English  method  of  rapping  knuckles  for  false  Latin  quan- 
titles  IS  one  way  of  arousing  interest  in  the  intricacies  of  Latin.     To 
offer  a  child  a  bribe,  or  a  promise  of  teacher's  affection,  or  promotion 
to  the  next  grade,  or  ability  to  make  money,  or  to  take  a  position  in 
society,  are  other  modes.     They  are  cases  of  transferred  interest.     But 
the  criterion  of  judging  them  lies  just  here :  How  far  is  one  interest  exter- 
nally attached  to  another,  or  substituted  for  another  ?   How  far  does  the 
new  appeal,  the  new  motive,  serve  to  interpret,  to  bring  out,  to  re/ate 
the  material  otherwise  without  interest  ?     It    is  a  question,  again,  of 
tnter-esse,   of  interaction.      The  problem   may   be  stated   as   one   of 
the  relations  of  means  and  end.     Anything  indifferent  or  repellant 
becomes  of  interest  when  seen  as  a  means  to  an  end  already  related  to 
self,  or  as  an  end  which  will  allow  means  already  at  command  to  secure 
further  movement  and  outlet.     But,  in  normal  growth,  the  interest  in 
one  IS  not  simply  externally  tied  on  to  the  other;  is  suffuses,  satu- 
rates,  and  thus  transforms  it.     It  interprets  or  revalues  it— gives  it 
a  new  significance  in  consciousness.     The  man  who  has  a  w!fe  and 
family  has  thereby  a  new  motive  for  his  daily  work-he  sees  anew 
meaning  in  it,  and  takes  into  it  a  steadiness  and  enthusiasm  pre- 

'I  have  it  argued  in  all  seriousness  that  a  child  kept  after  school  to  study  has 
often  got  an  interest  in  arithmetic  or  grammar  which  he  didn't  have  before,  as  if  this 
proved  he  efficacy  of  "discipline"  ...  interest.  Of  course,  the  reality  /s  that  the 
greater  leisure,  the  opportunity  for  individual  explanation  afforded,  served  to  bring 
tne  material  into  its  proper  relations  in  the  child's  mind  -  he  «  got  a  hold  "  of  it 


i8 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


19 


viously  lacking.  But  if  he  does  his  day's  work  as  a  thing  intrin- 
sically disagreeable,  as  drudgery,  simply  for  the  sake  of  the  final 
wage-reward,  the  case  is  quite  different.  Means  and  end  remain 
remote ;  they  do  not  permeate  one  another.  The  person  is  no  more 
really  interested  in  his  work  than  he  was  before  ;  it,  in  itself,  is  a  hard- 
ship to  be  escaped  from.  Hence  he  cannot  give  full  attention  to  it ; 
he  cannot  put  himself  unreservedly  into  it.  But  to  the  other  man 
every  stroke  of  work  may  mean  literally  his  wife  and  baby.  Externally, 
physically,  they  are  remote ;  mentally,  in  consciousness,  they  are  one ; 
they  have  the  same  value.  But  in  drudgery  means  and  end  remain  as 
separate  in  consciousness  as  they  are  in  space  and  time.  What  is  true 
of  this  is  true  of  every  attempt  in  teaching  to  "create  interest"  by 
appeal  to  external  motives. 

At  the  opposite  scale,  take  a  case  of  artistic  construction.  The 
sculptor  has  his  end,  his  ideal,  in  view.  To  realize  that  end  he  must 
go  through  a  series  of  intervening  steps  which  are  not,  on  the  face  of 
it,  equivalent  to  the  end.  He  must  model  and  mold  and  chisel  in  a 
series  of  particular  acts,  no  one  of  which  is  the  beautiful  form  he  has  in 
mind,  and  every  one  of  which  represents  the  putting  forth  of  personal 
energy  on  his  own  part.  But  because  these  are  to  him  necessary  means 
for  the  end,  the  ideal,  the  finished  form  is  completely  transferred  over 
into  these  special  acts.  Each  molding  of  the  clay,  each  stroke  of  the 
chisel,  is  for  him  at  the  time  the  whole  end  in  process  of  realization. 
Whatever  interest  or  value  attaches  to  the  end  attaches  to  each  of  these 
steps.  He  is  as  much  absorbed  in  one  as  in  the  other.  Any  failure  in 
this  complete  identification  means  an  inartistic  product,  means  that  he 
is  not  really  interested  in  his  ideal.  A  genuine  interest  in  the  ideal 
indicates  of  necessity  an  equal  interest  in  all  the  conditions  of  its 
expression. 

We  are  now  in  position  to  deal  with  the  question  of  the  relation 
of  interest  to  desire  and  to  effort.  Desire  and  effort  in  their  legitimate 
R  lati  n  of  Inter-  meaning  are,  both  of  them,  phases  of  mediated  interest, 
est  to  Desire  and  They  are  correlatives,  not  opposites.  Both  effort  and 
^^^'^'  desire  exist  only  when  the  end   is  somewhat   remote. 

When  energy  is  put  forth  purely  for  its  own  sake,  there  is  no  question 
of  effort  and  equally  no  question  of  desire.  Effort  and  desire  both 
imply  a  state  of  tension.  There  is  a  certain  amount  of  opposition 
existing  between  the  ideal  in  view  and  the  present  actual  state  of 
things.     We  call  it  effort  when  we  are  thinking   of  the  necessity  of  a 


decided  transformation  of  the  actual  state  of  things  in  order  to  make  it 
conform  to  the  ideal — when  we  are  thinking  of  the  process  from  the 
side  of  the  idea  and  interested  in  the  question  how  to  get  it  realized. 
We  call  it  desire  when  we  think  of  the  tendency  of  the  existing  ener- 
gies to  push  themselves  forward  so  as  to  secure  this  transformation,  or 
change  the  idea  into  a  fact — when  we  think  of  the  process  from  the 
side  of  the  means  at  hand.  But  in  either  case,  obstacles  delaying  us, 
and  the  continued  persistence  of  activity  against  them,  are  implied. 
The  only  sure  evidence  of  desire,  as  against  mere  vague  wishing,  is 
effort,  and  desire  is  aroused  only  when  the  exercise  of  effort  is  required. 

In  discussing  the  condition  of  mediate  interest  we  may  emphasize 
either  the  end  in  view,  the  idea,  or  we  may  start  with  the  consideration 
of  the  present  means,  the  active  side  urgent  for  expression.  The 
former  is  the  intellectual  side,  the  latter  the  emotional.  The  tendency 
of  the  end  to  realize  itself  through  the  process  of  mediation,  overcom- 
ing resistance,  is  effort.  The  tendency  of  the  present  powers  to  con- 
tinue a  struggle  for  complete  expresssion  in  an  end  remote  in  time  is 
desire. 

We  often  speak  of  appetite  as  blind  and  lawless.  We  conceive  it  as 
insisting  upon  its  own  satisfaction,  irrespective  of  circumstances  or  of 
the  good  to  the  self.  This  means  that  the  appetite  is 
only  felt ;  it  is  not  known.  It  is  not  considered  from 
the  standpoint  of  its  bearings  or  relationships.  It  is  not  translated 
over  into  terms  of  its  results.  Consequently  it  is  not  made  intelligent. 
It  is  not  rationalized.  As  a  result  energy  is  wasted.  In  any  strong 
appetite  there  is  an  immense  amount  of  power,  physical  and  psychical, 
stirred  up ;  but  where  the  agent  does  not  anticipate  the  ends  corre- 
sponding to  this  power,  it  is  undirected.  The  energy  expends  itself  in 
chance  channels  or  according  to  some  accidental  stimulus.  The  organ- 
ism is  exhausted,  and  nothing  positive  or  objective  is  accomplished. 
The  disturbance  or  agitation  is  out  of  proportion  to  any  ends  reached. 
All  there  is  to  show  for  such  a  vast  excitation  of  energy  is  the  momen- 
tary satisfaction  felt  in  its  stimulation  and  expenditure. 

Even  as  regards  this  blind  appetite,  there  is,  however,  a  decided 
difference  of  type  between  the  lower  animals  and  man.  In  the  animals, 
while  the  appetite  is  not  conscious  of  its  own  end,  it  none  the  less 
seeks  that  end  by  a  sort  of  harmony  preestablished  in  the  animal  struc- 
ture. Fear  serves  the  animal  as  a  stimulus  to  flight  or  to  seeking  cover. 
Anger  serves  it  for  purposes  of  attack  and  defense.    It  is  a  very  unusual 


Impulse,  Bmotion. 


20 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


occurrence  when  the  feeling  gets  the  better  of  the  animal  and  causes  it 
te  waste  its  powers  uselessly.  But  of  the  blind  feelings  in  the  human 
being  it  is  to  be  said  that  most  of  them  require  adjustment  before  they 
are  of  any  regular  permanent  service.  There  is  no  douilt  that  fear  or 
anger  may  be  rendered  useful  to  the  man  as  they  are  to  the  animal. 
But  in  the  former  case  they  have  to  be  trained  to  this  use  ;  in  the  latter 
they  originally  possess  it.  The  ultimate  function  of  anger  is  undoubtedly 
to  do  away  with  obstacles  hindering  the  process  of  realization,  but  in  a 
child  the  exhibition  of  anger  is  almost  sure  to  leave  the  object,  the 
obstacle,  untouched  and  to  exhaust  the  child.  The  blind  feeling  needs 
to  be  rationalized.  The  agent  has  to  become  conscious  of  the  end  or 
object  and  control  his  aroused  powers  by  conscious  reference  to  it. 

For  the  process  of  self-expression  to  be  effective  and  mechanical, 
there  must,  in  other  words,  be  a  consciousness  of  both  end  and  means. 
Whenever  there  is  difficulty  in  effecting  adjustment  of  means  and  ends, 
the  agent  is  thrown  into  a  condition  of  emotion.  Whenever  we  have 
on  one  side  the  idea  corresponding  to  some  end  or  object,  and  when- 
ever we  have  on  the  other  side  a  stirring  up  of  the  active  impulses  and 
habits,  together  with  a  tendency  of  the  latter  to  focus  themselves  at 
once  upon  the  former,  there  we  have  a  disturbance  or  agitation,  known 
on  its  psychical  side  as  emotion.  It  is  a  commonplace  that,  as  fast  as 
habit  gets  definitely  formed  in  relation  to  its  own  special  end,  the  feel- 
ing element  drops  out.  But  now  let  the  usual  end  to  which  the  habit 
is  adapted  be  taken  away  and  a  sudden  demand  be  made  for  the  old 
habit  to  become  a  means  toward  a  new  end,  and  emotional  stress  at 
once  becomes  urgent.  The  active  side  is  all  stirred  up,  but  neither 
discharges  itself  at  once,  without  any  end,  nor  yet  directs  itself  toward 
any  accustomed  end.  The  result  is  tension  between  habit  and  aim, 
between  impulse  and  idea,  between  means  and  end.  This  tension  is 
the  essential  feature  of  emotion. 

It  is  obvious  from  this  account  that  the  function  of  emotion  is  to 
secure  a  sufficient  arousing  of  energy  in  critical  periods  of  the  life  of 

the  agent.  When  the  end  is  new  or  unusual  and  there  is 
Punction  of  ^^^^^  difficulty  in  attending  to  it,  the  natural  tendency 

would  be  to  let  it  go  or  turn  away  from  it.  But  the  very 
newness  of  the  end  often  represents  the  importance  of  the  demand  that 
is  being  made.  To  neglect  the  end  would  be  a  serious,  if  not  fatal, 
matter  for  the  agent.  The  very  difficulty  in  effecting  the  adjustment 
sends  out  successive  waves  of  stimuli,  which  call   into   play  more 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


21 


Function 
of  Desire. 


impulses  and  habits,  thus  reinforcing  the  powers,  resources,  at  the 
agent's  command.  The  function  of  emotion  is  thus  to  brace  or  rein- 
force the  agent  in  coping  with  the  novel  element  in  unexpected  and 
immediate  situations. 

The  normal  moral  outcome  is  found  in  a  balance  between  the  exci- 
tation and  the  ideal.  If  the  former  is  too  weak  or  diffused,  the  agent 
lacks  in  motor  power.  If  it  is  relatively  too  strong,  the  agent  is  not 
able  to  handle  the  powers  which  have  been  stirred  up.  He  is  more  or 
less  beside  himself.  He  is  carried  away  by  the  extent  of  his  own  agi- 
tation.    He  relapses,  in  other  words,  into  the  phase  of  blind  feeling. 

Desire  cannot  be  identified  with  mere  impulse  or  with  blind  feeling. 
Desire  differs  from  the  appetite  of  the  animal  in  that  it  is  always  con- 
scious, at  least  dimly,  of  its  own  end.  When  the  agent 
is  in  the  condition  known  as  desire,  he  is  conscious  of 
some  object  ahead  of  him,  and  the  consciousness  of  this 
object  serves  to  reinforce  his  active  tendencies.  The  thought  of  the 
desired  object  serves,  in  a  word,  to  stimulate  the  means  necessary  to  its 
attainment.  While  desire  is  thus  not  a  purely  impulsive  state,  neither, 
of  course,  is  it  a  purely  intellectual  one.  The  object  may  be  present 
in  consciousness,  but  it  is  simply  contemplated  as  an  object ;  if  it  does 
not  serve  as  stimulus  to  activity,  it  occupies  a  purely  aesthetic  or  theo- 
retic place.  At  most,  it  will  arouse  only  a  pious  wish  or  a  vague  senti- 
mental longing,  not  an  active  desire. 

The  true  moral  function  of  desire  is  thus  identical  with  that  of 
emotion,  of  which,  indeed,  it  is  only  one  special  phase.  Its  place  in 
the  moral  life  is  to  arouse  energy,  to  stimulate  the  means  necessary  to 
accomplish  the  realization  of  ends  otherwise  purely  theoretic  or  aesthetic. 
Our  desires  in  a  given  direction  simply  measure  the  hold  which  certain 
ends  or  ideas  have  upon  us.  They  exhibit  the  force  of  character,  the 
Drang  in  that  direction.  They  test  the  sincerity  of  character.  A  pro- 
duced end  which  does  not  awaken  desire  is  a  mere  pretension.  It 
indicates  a  growing  division  of  character,  a  threatening  hypocrisy. 

The  moral  treatment  of  desire,  like  that  of  emotion,  involves  secur- 
ing a  balance.  Desire  tends  continually  to  overdo  itself.  It  marks 
energy  stirred  up  to  serve  as  means ;  but  the  energy  once  stirred  up 
tends  to  express  itself  on  its  own  account  independently  of  the  end. 
Desire  is  greedy,  lends  itself  to  over-hastiness,  and  unless  watched  makes 
the  agent  over-hasty.  It  runs  away  with  him.  It  is  not  enough  that 
the  contemplation  of  the  end  stir  up  the  impulses  and  habits ;  the  con- 


22 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


n 


sciousness  of  the  end  must  also  abide,  after  they  are  excited,  to  direct 

the  energy  called  into  being. 

We  thus  get  a  criterion  for  the  normal  position  of  pleasure  m  rela- 
tion to  desire.     There  can  be  no  doubt  that  desire  is  always  more  or 
less  pleasurable.      It    is    pleasurable    in    so  far  as  the 
Relation  of  Pleas-  ^^^  ^j  self-expression  is  present  in  consciousness.     For 
we  to  Desire.        ^^^  ^^^  ^^^^^^  satisfaction,  and  any  conception  of  it 

awakens,  therefore,  an  image  of  satisfaction,  which,  so  far  as  it  goes,  is 
itself  pleasurable.  The  use  of  this  pleasure  is  to  give  the  end  such  a 
hold  upon  the  agent  that  it  may  pass  over  from  its  ideal  condition  into 
one  of-  actualization.  Normal  pleasure  has  a  strictly  .instrumental 
place.  It  is  due  to  the  thought  of  the  end  on  one  side,  and  it  con- 
tributes to  the  practical  efficiency  of  the  end  on  the  other.  In  the  case 
of  self-indulgence  the  end  is  used  simply  to  excite  the  pleasurable  state 
of  consciousness,  and,  having  done  this,  is  thereafter  denied.  Pleasure, 
instead  of  serving  to  hold  the  mind  to  the  end,  is  now  made  itself  the 

end.  .  1     , 

What,  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  connection  of  this  with  the  question 

of  interest  ?     Precisely  this:     In  the  analysis  of  desire  we  are  brought 
back  exactly  to  the  question  of  mediate  interest.    Normal 
Bearing  of  Desire  ^q^\jq  \^  simply  a  case  of  properly  mediated   interest, 
on  interest.  ^^^  problem  of  attaining  the  proper  balance  between 

the  impulses  on  one  side  and  an  ideal  or  end  on  the  other  is  just  the 
question  of  getting  enough  interest  in  the  end  to  prevent  a  too  sudden 
expenditure  of  the  waste  energy— to  direct  this  excited  energy  so  that 
it  shall  be  tributary  to  realizing  the  end.  Here  the  interest  in  the  end 
is  taken  over  into  the  means.  •  Interest,  in  other  words,  marks  the  fact 
that  the  emotional  force  aroused  is  functioning.  This  is  our  definition 
of  interest ;  it  is  impulse  functioning  with  reference  to  an  idea  of  self- 
expression. 

Interest  in  the  end  indicates  that  desire  is  both  calmed  and  steadied. 
Over-greedy  desire,  like  over-anxious  aversion,  defeats  itself.  The 
youthful  hunter  is  so  anxious  to  kill  his  game,  he  is  so  stimulated  by 
the  thought  of  reaching  his  end,  that  he  cannot  control  himself  suffi- 
ciently to  take  steady  aim.  He  shoots  wild.  The  successful  hunter  is 
not  the  one  who  has  lost  interest  in  his  end,  in  killing  the  game,  but 
the  one  who  is  able  to  translate  this  interest  completely  over  into  the 
means  necessary  to  accomplish  his  purpose.  It  is  no  longer  the  kill- 
ing of  the  game  that  occupies  his  consciousness  by  itself,  but  the 


Analysis  of  Ends. 


thought  of  the  steps  he  has  to  perform.  The  means,  once  more,  have 
been  identified  with  the  end ;  the  desire  has  become  mediate  interest. 
The  ideal  dies  as  bare  ideal,  to  live  again  in  instrumental  powers. 

So  far  we  have  been  discussing  the  process  of  mediated  self-expres- 
sion from  the  standpoint  of  the  means.  We  have  now  to  consider 
the  same  process,  throwing  the  emphasis  of  intellectual 
**  analysis  on  the  side  of  the  end.  Because  of  the  length 
of  the  foregoing  discussion  we  may  here  briefly  consider  the  end  or 
ideal,  on  the  sides,  respectively,  of  its  origin  and  its  function. 

First,  its  origin.  The  ideal  is  normally  a  projection  of  the  active 
powers.  It  is  not  generated  in  a  vacuum  nor  introduced  into  the  mind 
from  outside  impulses  and  habits  actually  striving  for  expression.  It 
is  simply  these  active  powers  getting  off  and  looking  at  themselves  to 
see  what  they  are  like ;  to  see  what  they  are  upon  the  whole,  perma- 
nently, in  their  final  bearings,  and  not  simply  as  they  are  at  the 
moment  and  in  their  relative  isolation.  The  ideal,  in  other  words,  is 
the  self-consciousness  of  the  impulse.  It  is  its  self-interpretation ;  its 
value  in  terms  of  possible  realization. 

Second,  hence  its  function.  If  the  ideal  had  its  genesis  independ- 
ent of  the  active  powers,  it  is  impossible  to  see  how  it  could  ever  get 
to  work.  The  psychical  machinery  by  which  it  should  cease  to  be 
barely  an  ideal,  and  become  an  actuality,  would  be  wanting.  But  just 
because  the  ideal  is  normally  the  projection  of  the  active  powers  into 
intellectual  terms,  the  ideal  inevitably  possesses  active  quality.  This 
dynamic  factor  is  present  to  stay.  Its  appearance  as  motive  is  not 
anything  different  in  kind  from  its  appearance  as  ideal.  Motivation  is 
just  the  realization  of  the  active  value  originally  attaching  to  it. 

In  other  words,  when  the  ideal  has  the  function  of  motive  (a  power 
inducing  to  activity),  we  have  precisely  the  same  fact,  viewed  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  end,  that  we  have  just  now  considered 
as  the  passing  over  of  desire  into  mediate  interest  when 
viewing  it  from  the  side  of  the  means.  So  long  as  the  ideal  does  not 
become  a  motive,  it  indicates  that  the  ideal  itself  is  not  yet  definitely 
formed.  There  is  conflict  of  ideals.  The  agent  has  two  possible  ends 
before  him,  one  corresponding  to  one  set  of  his  active  powers,  and 
another  to  another  set  of  impulses  or  habits.  Thought,  reflection,  is 
not  focused,  accordingly,  in  any  single  direction.  The  self  has  not  yet 
found  itself.  It  does  not  know  what  it  really  wants.  It  is  in  process 
of  tentative  self-expression,  first  trying  on  one  self  and  then  another  to 


Conflict  of  Ideals. 


24 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


25 


see  how  they  fit.  The  attainment  of  a  single  purpose  or  the  defining 
of  one  final  ideal  indicates  the  self  has  found  its  unity  of  expression. 
At  this  exact  point  the  ideal,  having  no  longer  any  opposition  to  hold 
it  back,  begins  to  show  itself  in  overt  action.  The  ideal  has  become 
a  motive.  The  interest  in  the  end  is  now  taken  over  into  the  impulses 
and  habits,  and  they  become  the  present  ends.  Motive  is^the  interest 
in  the  ideal  mediated  into  impulse  and  habit. 

Normal  effort  is  precisely  this  self-realizing  tendency  of  the  ideal — 
its  struggle  to  pass  over  into  motive.  The  empty  or  formal  ideal  is 
the  end  which  is  not  suggested  by,  or  does  not  grow  out 
Meaning  of  Wor-  ^^^  ^^^  agent's  active  powers.  Lacking  any  dynamic 
qualities,  it  does  not  assert  itself ;  its  does  not  become  a 
motor,  a  motive.  But  whenever  the  ideal  is  really  a  projection  or  trans- 
lation of  self-expression,  it  must  strive  to  assert  itself.  It  must  persist 
through  obstacles,  and  endeavor  to  transform  obstacles  into  means  of 
its  own  realization.  The  degree  of  its  persistency  simply  marks  the 
extent  to  which  it  is  in  reality,  and  not  simply  in  name,  a  true  ideal  or 
conceived  form  of  self-expression. 

The  matter  of  good  intentions  or  "  meaning  well "  affords  a  good 
illustration  of  this  principle.  When  a  person  who  has  outwardly  failed 
in  his  duty  offers  his  good  intentions  as  a  justification  or  palliation  of 
conduct,  what  determines  whether  or  no  his  excuse  shall  be  accepted  ? 
Is  it  not  precisely  whether  he  can  or  not  show  effort  on  the  part  of  his 
intention,  his  ideal,  to  realize  itself,  and  can  show  obstacles  intervening 
from  without  which  have  prevented  its  expression  up  to  the  point  of 
overt  realization  ?  If  he  cannot  show  overwhelming  interference  from 
without,  we  have  a  right  to  conclude  either  that  the  agent  is  attempt- 
ing to  deceive  us  or  else  is  self -deceived  —  that  his  so-called  good 
intention  was  in  reality  but  a  vague  sentimental  wish  or  else  a  second- 
handed  reference  to  some  conventional  ideal  which  had  no  real  hold 
upon  him.  We  always  use  the  persistence  of  an  end  against  obstacles 
as  a  test  of  its  vitality,  its  genuineness. 

On  the  other  hand,  effort,  in  the  sense  of  strain  because  of  lack  in 
interest,  is  evidence  of  the  abnormal  use  of  effort.     The  necessity  of 

effort  in  this  sense  indicates  that  the  end  nominally  held 
up  is  not  recognized  as  a  form  of  self-expression — that 
it  is  external  to  the  self  and  hence  fails  in  interest.     The  conscious  stir- 
ring up  of  effort  marks  simply  the  unreal  strain  necessarily  involved  in 
any  attempt  to  reach  an  end  which  is  not  Dart  and  parcel  of  the  self's 


Summary. 


own  process.  The  strain  is  always  artificial ;  it  requires  external  stimu- 
lation of  some  sort  or  other  to  keep  it  going,  and  always  leads  to 
exhaustion.  Not  only  does  effort  in  its  true  sense  play  no  part  in 
moral  training,  but  it  plays  a  distinctly  immoral  part.  The  externality 
of  the  end,  as  witnessed  in  its  failure  to  arouse  the  active  impulses  and 
to  persist  toward  its  own  realization,  makes  it  impossible  that  any  strain 
to  attain  this  end  should  have  any  other  than  a  relatively  immoral 
motive.  Only  selfish  fear,  the  dread  of  some  external  power,  or  else 
purely  mechanical  habit,  or  else  the  hope  of  some  external  reward, 
some  more  or  less  subtle  form  of  bribery,  can  be  really  a  motive  in  any 

such  instance. 

We  thus  see  how  the  theories  of  pleasure  as  a  motive  and  artificial 
effort  as  a  motive  have  the  same  practical  outcome.  The  theory  of 
strain  always  involves  some  reference  to  either  pleasure 
or  pain  as  the  real  controlling  motive.  And  the  theory 
of  pleasure,  because  of  its  lack  of  an  intrinsic  end  which  holds  and 
directs  the  powers,  has  continually  to  fall  back  upon  some  external 
inducement  to  excite  the  flagging  powers.  It  is  a  commonplace  in 
morals  that  no  one  puts  forth  more  effort  with  less  avail  than  the  habit- 
ual seeker  after  pleasure. 

The  outcome  of  our  psychological  analysis  is  thus  identical  with 
the  results  reached  by  consideration  of  the  practical  educational  side. 
There  we  found  that  the  appeal  to  making  things  interesting,  to  stir- 
ring up  pleasure  in  things  not  of  themselves  interesting,  leads  as  a 
matter  of  common  experience  to  alternation  of  overstimulation  and 
dull  apathy.  Here  we  find  that  the  desire  for  pleasure  as  an  end  leads 
necessarily  to  the  stirring  up  of  energies  uselessly  on  one  side,  and  the 
undirected,  wasteful  expenditure  of  energies  on  the  other.  . 

On  the  educational  side  we  saw  that  the  appeal  to  the  sheer  force 
of  "will,"  so-called,  apart  from  any  interest  in  the  object,  means  the 
formation  of  habits  of  divided  attention— the  mechanical  doing  of 
certain  things  in  a  purely  external  way  on  the  one  side,  and  the  riotous, 
uncontrolled  play  of  imagery  on  the  other.  On  the  psychological  side 
we  find  that  interest  in  an  end  or  object  simply  means  that  the  self  is 
finding  its  own  movement  or  outlet  in  a  certain  direction,  and  that 
consequently  there  is  a  motive  for  effort,  for  putting  forth  energy,  in 
realizing  the  desirable  end. 

On  the  educational  side  we  were  led  to  assume  that  normal  interest 
and  effort  are  identical  with  the  process  of  self-expression.     We  have 


II 


26 


INTEREST  m  RELATION  TO 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


27 


now  through  the  process  of  mediated  self-expression  secufed  a  fairly 
adequate  psychological  justification  for  that  practical  postulate  of 
education. 

III. 

Current  discussions  as  to  the  relation  of  interest  to  moral  training 
have  centered  largely  about  the  relative  merits  of  the  Kantian  and 

Herbartian  theories  of  desire  and  will.  So  far  as  I  can 
bartian  Theories  see,  as  between  the  two  theories,  it  is  a  case  of  six  of 
of  Desire  and      one  and  half  a  dozen  of  the  other.     Judged  by  the  out- 

Will 

come  of  the  previous  discussion,  neither  theory  has  an 
adequate  conception  either  of  interest  or  of  moral  volition. 

The  criticisms  of  the  Kantian  theory  have  been  so  thoroughly 
worked  out  by  Hegel  and  Schleiermacher,  in  Germany,  and  recently  by 
Bradley,  Green,  and  Caird,  in  England,  that  we  need  here  give  only  a 
very  brief  summary.  Kant  holds  that  the  sole  end  or  object  of  desire 
is  pleasure ;  that  desire,  in  other  words,  is  always  self-seeking  in  the 
bad  sense  of  that  term.  The  end  set  up  by  desire  must,  therefore,  be 
excluded  from  any  share  in  moral  motivation.  The  agent  must  take 
the  moral  law,  the  end  laid  down  by  reason,  not  only  as  his  end,  but 
also  as  his  motive.  But  all  special  ends  are  excluded  from  the  end  of 
reason,  because  they  are  empirical  and  not  adequate  to  the  necessity 
and  universality  of  reason.  Reason  thus  becomes  purely  formal.  It  is 
empty,  having  no  content. 

It  should  hardly  be  necessary  to  dwell  upon  the  inadequacy  of  a 
theory  which  excludes  all  specific  concrete  ends  from  forming  the  con- 
tent of  the  moral  motive.  Such  a  theory  would  have,  as  its  practical 
outcome,  only  the  deification  of  mere  good  intentions  on  one  side,  or 
else  the  setting  up  of  hard  and  fixed  rules  on  the  other.  The  ineffi- 
ciency of  such  a  theory  for  the  purpose  of  the  educator  also  goes  with- 
out saying.  It  is  not  the  work  of  the  educator  of  children  to  fix  their 
attention  upon  abstract  morality  or  to  induce  them  to  act  with  the 
formal  law  of  duty  as  their  controlling  motive.  It  is  rather  his  busi- 
ness to  get  the  children  to  realize  what  the  general  abstract  demands 
of  morality  require  in  very  special  and  concrete  instances,  and  to  give 
them  such  an  interest  in  these  specific  moral  ends  as  will  endow  them  with 
motor  power.  Kant's  theory  absolutely  fails  to  supply  any  guidance 
as  to  method  in  this  respect.  The  teacher  who  attempted  to  work  by  it 
would  inevitably,  so  far  as  he  influenced  pupils  at  all,  make  them  into 


either  sentimentalists  or  prigs.  He  would  make  them  self-conscious  in 
the  ba^  sense  of  that  term  —  concerned,  that  is  to  say,  with  their  own 
attitude  toward  morality  rather  than  with  conduct  itself. 

One  or  two  points  in  Kant's  psychology  are,  however,  perhaps 
worth  remark.  On  the  one  hand  we  have  his  assumption  that  the 
whole  impulsive,  appetitive  desiring  nature  of  man  works  toward  moral 
evil,  is  selfish.  The  dualism  between  sense  and  reason,  which  is  the 
essence  of  his  theory  of  knowledge,  reappears  also  in  his  critique  of 
will.  The  self  is  split  in  two.  It  has  one  phase  which  is  only  particu- 
lar, and  another  phase  which  is  merely  universal.  All  this  is  assump- 
tion without  justification  from  either  the  biological,  or  psychological, 
or  the  logical  point  of  view.  Biologically,  impulse  and  appetite  rep- 
resent, not  a  striving  for  pleasure,  but  a  striving  to  maintain  and  further 
the  life  process.  Psychologically,  impulse  is  always  a  means,  an  instru- 
ment, for  realizing  an  end.  Pleasure  arrives,  not  as  its  animating  and 
intended  aim,  but  as  an  accompaniment  of  the  putting  forth  of 
activity.  Logically,  the  particular  has  to  be  conceived  as  one  specified 
mode  of  activity  of  an  organic  whole ;  the  universal  as  the  principle 
which  organizes  particulars  into  the  unified  whole. 

Moreover,  when  we  take  the  particular  kind  of  interest  which  Kant 
does  finally  admit,  its  inadequacy  to  the  needs  of  the  educator  is 
glaring.  Reverence  for  the  moral  law  is  the  one  form  of  emotion 
which  Kant  admits.  But  this  interest  is  of  necessity  a  late  one  in  the 
process  of  development.  Observation,  both  of  the  race  and  of  the 
individual,  justifies  this  statement.  Given  a  moral  character  already 
formed,  an  appeal  to  this  interest  undoubtedly  has  value — especially 
in  critical  periods  of  moral  stress ;  for  it  may  be  questioned  whether 
in  the  great  mass  of  the  acts  even  of  the  mature  character  it  would  be 
advisable  to  bring  in  distinct  consciousness  of  moral  law,  rather  than 
to  trust  to  the  value  lying  in  the  ends  themselves.  But  the  problem 
for  the  educator  is  not  how  to  reach  the  formed  character  in  which  rever- 
ence for  the  moral  law  as  such  has  any  meaning.  The  problem  for 
him  is  how  to  utilize  present  interests  and  special  ends  so  that  there 
may  grow  out  of  them  in  due  time  such  a  sense  of  law  and  of  the 
claims  of  law  as  to  hold  and  reinforce  character  in  critical  periods  of 

temptation.  / 

We  find  the  Herbartian  claiming  the  following  things  :  First,  inter- 
est is  psychical  activity.  It  is  an  inner  animation  of  the  self,  a  stirring 
up  of  the  self.     In  the  satisfaction  of  interest,  pleasure  is  felt  and  men- 


28 


WTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO. 


tal  ease  of  operation  is  furthered.  Second,  it  is  attached  to  the  object 
for  its  own  sake,  and  not  because  of  what  the  object  may  do  in  serving 
further  ends.  Genuine  interest,  according  to  the  Herbartians,  is 
always  immediate ;  absorbed,  that  is,  in  the  value  of  the  object.  It  is 
involuntary  — that  is,  precedes,  and  is  independent  of,  the  awakening 
of  any  desire.  Mediate  interest  is  what  is  usually  termed  an  impure 
interest,  attaching  not  to  the  object  for  its  own  sake,  but  for  its  useful- 
ness in  reaching  more  remote  ends  of  pleasure  or  of  success.  Third, 
interest  is  the  means  by  which  certain  ideas  and  certain  connections 
between  ideas  can  be  so  established  and  reinforced  as  to  become  prac- 
tically influential  in  directing  the  child's  conduct. 

All  this  seems  to  me  sound  educational  sense.  Make  allowance  for 
the  different  use  of  the  terms  immediate  and  mediate  interest,  and  it 
agrees  substantially  with  the  analysis  already  given.  But  when  we  go 
to  the  psychology  of  interest,  we  find  an  account  which  not  only  does 
not  justify  previous  statements,  but  actually  contradicts  them. 

According  to  this  psychological  view,  interest  is  not  psychical 
activity,  but  is  a  product  of  the  actions  and  reactions  of  ideas.  Inter- 
est is  simply  one  case  of  feeling,  and  all  the  feeling  depends  upon  the 
mechanism  of  ideas.  In  his  desire  to  get  rid  of  the  "  faculty "  psy- 
chology, Herbart  denies  any  original  or  primitive  character  to  either 
impulse  or  feeling.  Interest  from  this  point  of  view  is  an  outcome,  a 
result  only.  It  may  be  said  to  be  the  end  of  education,  but  it  cannot 
possibly  be  a  means,  a  motive.     Instead  of  directing  ideas,  it  is  their 

passive  reflex. 

When  some  idea  ( Vorsiellung)  is  crowded  below,  or  down  toward, 
the  threshold  of  consciousness,  it  strains  against  the  counteracting 
ideas.  The  idea,  having  no  force /^r  se,  becomes  a  force  through  pres- 
sure, and  through  the  resistance  of  self-preservation  it  exerts  against 
such  pressure.  In  this  forward  and  backward  striving  of  the  ideas  some 
ideas  fuse  ;  the  new  and  the  old  join  hands.  This  fusion  (the  essence 
of  apperception)  gives  a  certain  pleasure,  the  sense  of  ease.  Hence  a 
peculiar  kind  of  feeling,  known  as  interest.  The  demand,  not  for  any 
special  Vorsiellung,  but  for  the  repetition  of  the  apperceptive  process, 
for  the  repetition  of  this  junction  between  new  and  old  (because  of  its 
peculiar  pleasure  ?),  is  interest.     It  is  the  need  to  occupy  itself  further 

with  the  same  activity. 

In  other  words,  interest  is  attached  in  no  sense  to  the  content  of  the 
ideas,  aiming  at  appreciating  their  intrinsic  values,  but  depends  wholly 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


29 


on  the  formal  interaction  of  the  ideas ;  it  accompanies  the  appercep- 
tive process  as  such,  independently  of  the  particular  set  of  ideas  apper- 

ceived. 

The  weakness  both  of  Herbartian  psychology  and  pedagogy  seems 
to  me  to  lie  just  here— in  giving  the  idea  a  sort  of  external  existence, 
a  ready-made  character,  an  existence  and  a  content  not  dependent  upon 
previous  individual  activity.  It  abstracts  the  idea  from  impulses  and 
the  activity  that  results  from  them,  just  as  does  the  Kantian  theory. 
The  Kantian  ideas  have  the  advantage  on  the  side  of  scope,  of  compre- 
hensiveness ;  the  Herbartian  Vorstellungen  have  it  on  the  side  of  defi- 
niteness,  of  immediate  availability.  But  both  doctrines  fail  to  recognize 
the  genesis  of  the  ideas,  the  conceived  ends,  out  of  concrete  spontaneous 
action ;  and  equally  fail  to  recognize  their  function  as  being  the  guides 
and  directors  of  the  instinctive  tendencies  to  action. 

/  Herbartianism  seems  to  me  essentially  a  schoolmaster's  psychology, 
not  the  psychology  of  a  child.     It  is  the  natural  expression  of  a  nation 
laying  great  emphasis  upon  authority  and  upon  the  formation  of  indi- 
vidual character  in  distinct  and  recognized  subordination  to  the  ethical 
demands  made  in  war  and  in  civil  administration  by  that  authority. 
It  is  not  the  psychology  of  a  nation  which  professes  to  believe  that 
every  individual  has  within  him  the  principle  of  authority,  and  that 
order  means  coordination,  not  subordination.     It  would  be  folly  not 
to  recognize  to  the  full  all  the  Herbartians  say  about  the  moral  impor- 
tance of  forming  certain  ideas  and  certain  relationships  among  ideas, 
and  the  extent  to  which  character  may  be  formed  or  disintegrated 
through  the  right  and  wrong  use  of  the  intellectual  side  of  instruction 
in  both  its  form  and  content.     But  just  as  our  psychology  shows  us 
that  ideas  arise  as  the  definition  of  activity,  and  serve  to  direct  that 
activity  in  new  expressions,  so  we  need  a  pedagogy  which  shall  lay 
more  emphasis  upon  securing  in  the  school  the  conditions  of  direct 
experience  and  the  gradual  evolution  of  ideas  in  and  through  the  con- 
structive activities  ;  for  it  is  the  extent  in  which  any  idea  is  a  projection 
of  natural  tendencies  that  measures  its  weight,  its  motor  power,  its 

interest. 

We  are  not  bound  up  to  the  one-sidedness  of  either  Kant  or  Her- 
bart, on  the  historical,  any  more  than  on  the  psychological,  side.  We 
may  go  back  to  Plato  and  Aristotle,  with  their  assertion  that  "  the  par- 
ticular training  in  respect  to  pleasure  and  pain  which  leads  one  to  take 
pleasure  in,  to  love,  what  demands  love,  and  to  feel  pain  in,  to  hate, 


28 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


tal  ease  of  operation  is  furthered.  Second,  it  is  attached  to  the  object 
for  its  own  sake,  and  not  because  of  what  the  object  may  do  in  serving 
further  ends.  Genuine  interest,  according  to  the  Herbartians,  is 
always  immediate  ;  absorbed,  that  is,  in  the  value  of  the  object.  It  is 
involuntary -that  is,  precedes,  and  is  independent  of,  the  awakening 
of  any  desire.  Mediate  interest  is  what  is  usually  termed  an  impure 
interest,  attaching  not  to  the  object  for  its  own  sake,  but  for  its  useful- 
ness in  reaching  more  remote  ends  of  pleasure  or  of  success.  Third, 
interest  is  the  means  by  which  certain  ideas  and  certain  connections 
between  ideas  can  be  so  established  and  reinforced  as  to  become  prac- 
tically  influential  in  directing  the  child's  conduct. 

All  this  seems  to  me  sound  educational  sense.  Make  allowance  for 
the  different  use  of  the  terms  immediate  and  mediate  interest,  and  it 
agrees  substantially  with  the  analysis  already  given.  But  when  we  go 
to  the  psychology  of  interest,  we  find  an  account  which  not  only  does 
not  justifv  previous  statements,  but  actually  contradicts  them. 

According  to  this  psychological  view,  interest  is  not  psychical 
activity,  but  is  a  product  of  the  actions  and  reactions  of  ideas.  Inter- 
est is  simply  one  case  of  feeling,  and  all  the  feeling  depends  upon  the 
mechanism  of  ideas.  In  his  desire  to  get  rid  of  the  -faculty"  psy- 
chology, Herbart  denies  any  original  or  primitive  character  to  either 
impulse  or  feeling.  Interest  from  this  point  of  view  is  an  outcome,  a 
result  only.  It  may  be  said  to  be  the  end  of  education,  but  it  cannot 
possibly  be  a  means,  a  motive.     Instead  of  directing  ideas,  it  is  their 

passive  reflex. 

When  some  idea  ( Vorstellung)  is  crowded  below,  or  down  toward, 
the  threshold  of  consciousness,  it  strains  against  the  counteracting 
ideas.  The  idea,  having  no  force /^r  se,  becomes  a  force  through  pres- 
sure, and  through  the  resistance  of  self-preservation  it  exerts  against 
such  pressure.  In  this  forward  and  backward  striving  of  the  ideas  some 
ideas  fuse  ;  the  new  and  the  old  join  hands.  This  fusion  (the  essence 
of  apperception)  gives  a  certain  pleasure,  the  sense  of  ease.  Hence  a 
peculiar  kind  of  feeling,  known  as  interest.  The  demand,  not  for  any 
special  Vorstellung,  but  for  the  repetition  of  the  apperceptive  process, 
for  the  repetition  of  this  junction  between  new  and  old  (because  of  its 
peculiar  pleasure  ?),  is  interest.     It  is  the  need  to  occupy  itself  further 

with  the  same  activity. 

In  other  words,  interest  is  attached  in  no  sense  to  the  content  of  the 
ideas,  aiming  at  appreciating  their  intrinsic  values,  but  depends  wholly 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


29 


on  the  formal  interaction  of  the  ideas ;  it  accompanies  the  appercep- 
tive process  as  such,  independently  of  the  particular  set  of  ideas  apper- 

ceived. 

The  weakness  both  of  Herbartian  psychology  and  pedagogy  seems 
to  me  to  lie  just  here— in  giving  the  idea  a  sort  of  external  existence, 
a  ready-made  character,  an  existence  and  a  content  not  dependent  upon 
previous  individual  activity.  It  abstracts  the  idea  from  impulses  and 
the  activity  that  results  from  them,  just  as  does  the  Kantian  theory. 
The  Kantian  ideas  have  the  advantage  on  the  side  of  scope,  of  compre- 
hensiveness ;  the  Herbartian  Vorstellungen  have  it  on  the  side  of  defi- 
niteness,  of  immediate  availability.  But  both  doctrines  fail  to  recognize 
the  genesis  of  the  ideas,  the  conceived  ends,  out  of  concrete  spontaneous 
action ;  and  equally  fail  to  recognize  their  function  as  being  the  guides 
and  directors  of  the  instinctive  tendencies  to  action. 

Herbartianism  seems  to  me  essentially  a  schoolmaster's  psychology, 
not  the  psychology  of  a  child.     It  is  the  natural  expression  of  a  nation 
laying  great  emphasis  upon  authority  and  upon  the  formation  of  indi- 
vidual character  in  distinct  and  recognized  subordination  to  the  ethical 
demands  made  in  war  and  in  civil  administration  by  that  authority. 
It  is  not  the  psychology  of  a  nation  which  professes  to  believe  that 
every  individual  has  within  him  the  principle  of  authority,  and  that 
order  means  coordination,  not  subordination.     It  would  be  folly  not 
to  recognize  to  the  full  all  the  Herbartians  say  about  the  moral  impor- 
tance of  forming  certain  ideas  and  certain  relationships  among  ideas, 
and  the  extent  to  which  character  may  be  formed  or  disintegrated 
through  the  right  and  wrong  use  of  the  intellectual  side  of  instruction 
in  both  its  form  and  content.     But  just  as  our  psychology  shows  us 
that  ideas  arise  as  the  definition  of  activity,  and  serve  to  direct  that 
activity  in  new  expressions,  so  we  need  a  pedagogy  which  shall  lay 
more  emphasis  upon  securing  in  the  school  the  conditions  of  direct 
experience  and  the  gradual  evolution  of  ideas  in  and  through  the  con- 
structive activities  ;  for  it  is  the  extent  in  which  any  idea  is  a  projection 
of  natural  tendencies  that  measures  its   weight,  its  motor  power,  its 

interest. 

We  are  not  bound  up  to  the  one-sidedness  of  either  Kant  or  Her- 
bart, on  the  historical,  any  more  than  on  the  psychological,  side.  We 
may  go  back  to  Plato  and  Aristotle,  with  their  assertion  that  "  the  par- 
ticular training  in  respect  to  pleasure  and  pain  which  leads  one  to  take 
pleasure  in,  to  love,  what  demands  love,  and  to  feel  pain  in,  to  hate, 


3© 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


31 


what  deserves  hate,  is  education." '  Or  we  may  go  ahead  to  Hegel, 
who  could  say  that  the  "actual  rationality  of  heart  and  will  can  only  be 
at  home  in  the  universality  of  intellect,"  and  yet  write  as  follows  : 
"  The  impulses  and  inclinations  are  sometimes  contrasted,  quite  to  their 
disadvantage,  with  the  morality  of  duty  for  duty's  sake.  But  impulse 
and  passion  are  the  very  life  blood  of  all  action  ;  they  are  necessary  if 
the  individual  is  to  be  really  concerned  in  his  end  and  its  execution. 
The  aim,  the  ideal,  with  which  *  morality '  has  to  do  is,  as  such,  bare 
content,  the  universal  —  an  inactive  thing.  It  finds  its  actualizing  in 
the  agent,  finds  it  only  when  the  aim  is  immanent  in  the  agent,  is  his 
interest,  and — should  it  claim  to  engross  his  whole  efl&cient  subjec- 
tivity— his  passion." 

IV. 

It  only  remains  briefly  to  summarize  from  the  educational  side  the 
whole  discussion. 

INTEREST   IN   RELATION   TO   THE   TEACHER   AND   TO   THE    CHILD. 

We  are  often  told  that  the  doctrine  of  interest  in  education  means 
that  the  undeveloped,  crude,  and  capricious  capacity  and  insight  of 

the  child  are  substituted  for  the  matured,  trained,  and 
wider  outlook  and  experience  of  the  adult.  Our  previ- 
ous discussion  should  enable  us  to  set  this  matter  to  rights.  There  are 
existing  natural  interests  on  the  part  of  the  child,  due  in  part  to  the 
stage  of  development  at  which  he  is  arrived,  in  part  to  his  habits 
previously  formed,  and  to  his  environment.  These  are  relatively 
crude,  uncertain,  and  transitory.  .Yet  they  are  all  there  is,  so  to  speak, 
to  the  child ;  they  are  all  the  teacher  has  to  appeal  to ;  they  are  the 
starting  points,  the  initiatives,  the  working  machinery.  Does  it  fol- 
low that  the  teacher  is  to  accept  them  as  final ;  to  take  them  as  a 
standard ;  to  appeal  to  them  in  the  sense  of  arousing  them  to  act  for 
their  own  satisfaction  just  as  they  are  ?  By  no  means.  The  teacher 
who  thus  interprets  them  is  the  only  serious  enemy  the  idea  of  interest 
really  has.  The  significance  of  interest  is  in  what  //  leads  to;  the  new 
experiences  it  makes  possible,  the  new  powers  it  tends  to  form.  The 
impulses  and  habits  of  the  child  must  be  interpreted.  The  value  of  the 
teacher  is  precisely  that  with  wider  knowledge  and  experience  he  may 
see  them,  not  only  as  beginners,  but  also  in  their  outcome,  in  their 
possibilities,  that  is,  in  their  ideals.     Here  is  Herbart's  many-sided 


Summary. 


interest  with  its  fivefold  classification.  Here  is  the  interest  of  the  child 
to  talk  about  himself  and  his  wonderful  experiences,  and  his  friends 
and  their  remarkable  doings.  What  may  it  lead  to  ?  What  is  its  pos- 
sible outcome  ?  Here  is  his  interest  in  scribbling,  in  making  houses 
and  dogs  and  men.  What  does  it  amount  to,  come  to  ?  And  so  on  to 
the  end  of  the  chapter.  To  answer  such  questions  as  these  is  not  only 
to  know  the  psychology  of  the  child.  It  is  to  tax  to  the  utmost  the 
wisdom  of  the  adult,  knowledge  of  history,  science,  and  the  resources 
of  art.  Subject-matter,  in  all  its  refinements  and  comprehensiveness, 
is  one  name  for  the  answer  to  the  question  :  What  shall  these  dawning 

powers  amount  to  ? 

But  it  is  a  long  road  from   the  beginning  to  the  end,  from  the 
child's  present  needs  and  tastes  to  his  matured  growth.     The  ground 
must  be  traveled  step  by  step.     It  is  always  today  in  the  teacher's 
practice.     The  teacher  must  be  able  to  see  to  what  immediate  and 
proximate  use  the  child's   interests  are  to  be    put  in  order  that  he 
may  be  moving  along  the  desired  line,  in  the  desired  direction.     The 
interest  to  scribble  must  be  taken  advantage  of  now,  not  in  order 
that  ten  years  from  now  he  shall  write  beautiful  letters,  or  do  fine  book- 
keeping, but  that  he  may  get  some  good  of  it  now  ;  may  effect  some- 
thing which  shall  open  another  step  in  advance,  and  draw  him  on  from 
his  own  crudity.     This  utilizing  of  interest  and  habit  to  make  of  it 
something  fuller,  wider,  something  more  refined  and  under  better  con- 
trol, might  be  defined  as  the  teacher's  whole  duty.     And  the  teacher 
who  always  utilizes  interest  will  never  merely  indulge  it.     Interest  in 
its  reality  is  a  moving  thing,  a  thing  of  growth,  of  richer  experience, 
and  fuller  power.     Just  how  to  use  interest  to  secure  growth  in  knowl- 
edge and  in  efficiency  is  what  defines  the  master  teacher.     Here  is  no 
place  to  answer.     But  it  is  obvious  from  previous  discussion  that  there 
will  be  a  distinction  according  as  children  are  mainly  in  the  stage  of 
direct  interest,   when  means   and   end    lie    close  together,    or   have 
reached  a  capacity  for  indirect  interest,  for  consciously  relating  acts 
and  ideas  to  one  another,  and  interpreting  one   in  terms  of  the  other. 
The  first,  the  period  of  elementary  education,  evidently  requires  that 
the  child  shall  be  taken  up  mainly  with  direct,  outgoing,  and  positive 
activity,  in  which  his  impulses  find  fulfillment  and  are  thereby  brought 
to  conscious  value.     In  the  second,  the  time  of  secondary  education, 
there  is  basis  for  reflection,  for  conscious  formulation  and  generaliza- 
tion, for  the  back-turned  activity  of  the  mind  which  goes  over  and  con- 


32 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


35 


sciously  defines  and  relates  the  elements  of  its  experience.  Here  the 
teacher  can  bring  the  child  to  consciousness  of  the  larger  meaning  of 
his  own  powers  and  experiences,  not  simply  through  giving  them  such 
outlet  that  the  child  perceives  the  bearings,  but  indirectly  and  vicari- 
ously through  reflection  upon  and  absorption  of  the  experiences  of 
others. 

INTEREST   AND    DISCIPLINE. 

Just  because  interest  is  an  outreaching  thing,  a  thing  of  growth 
and  expansion  in  the  realization  of  impulse,  there  can  be  no  conflict 
between  its  genuine  utilization  and  the  securing  of  that  power  and 
efficiency  which  mark  the  trained  mind  —  which  constitute  real  "  dis- 
cipline." Because  interests  are  something  that  have  to  be  worked  out 
in  life  and  not  merely  indulged  in  themselves,  there  is  plenty  of  room 
for  difficulties  and  obstacles  which  have  to  be  overcome,  and  whose 
overcoming  forms  "  will "  and  develops  the  flexible  and  firm  fiber  of 
character.  To  realize  an  interest  means  to  do  something,  and  in  the 
doing  resistance  is  met  and  must  be  faced.  Only  difficulties  are  now 
intrinsic ;  they  are  significant ;  their  meaning  is  appreciated  because 
they  are  felt  in  their  relation  to  the  impulse  or  habit  to  whose  out- 
working they  are  relevant.  Moreover,  for  this  reason,  there  is  motive 
to  gird  up  one's  self  to  meet  and  persistently  to  deal  with  the  difficul- 
ties, instead  of  getting  discouraged  at  once,  or  half-consciously  resort- 
ing to  some  method  of  evasion,  or  having  to  resort  to  extraneous 
motives  of  hope  and  fear  —  motives  which,  because  external,  do  not 
train  "  will,"  but  only  lead  to  dependence  upon  others. 

The  absurdity  in  much  of  the  current  conception  of  discipline  is  that 
it  supposes  (i )  that  unrelated  difficulties,  tasks  that  are  only  and  merely 
tasks,  problems  that  are  made  up  to  be  problems,  give  rise  to  educative 
effort,  or  direction  of  energy ;  and  (2)  that  power  exists  and  can  be  trained 
at  large  apart  from  its  application,  (i)  A  problem  is  a  mental  thing, 
a  psychical  thing;  it  involves  a  certain  mental  attitude  and  process  on 
the  part  of  the  one  to  whom  it  presents  itself.  Nothing  is  made  really 
a  problem  by  being  labeled  such,  or  because  it  presents  itself  as  such 
to  a  teacher,  or  even  because  it  is  "  hard  "  and  repulsive.  To  appreci- 
ate a  problem  as  such,  the  child  must  feel  it  as  his  own  difficulty,  which 
has  arisen  within  and  out  of  his  own  experience,  as  an  obstacle 
which  he  has  to  overcome,  in  order  to  secure  his  own  end,  the  integ- 
rity and  fullness  of  his  own  experience.    But  this  means  that  problems 


shall  arise  in  and  grow  out  of  the  child's  own  impulses,  ideas,  habits, 
out  of  his  attempts  to  express  and  fulfill  them  —  out  of  his  efforts  to 
realize  his  interests,  in  a  word.     (2)  There  is  discipline  or  trained 
power  only  when  there  is  power  to  use.     Any  other  conception  of 
"  discipline  "  reduces  it  even  below  the  level  of  the  professional  gym- 
nastic performer  — to  a  level  of  monkey  tricks.     If  there  be  anyone 
who  gives  up  his  whole  life  to  getting  skill  in  the  solution  of  charades 
and  enigmas  in  the  puzzle  columns  of  magazines,  puzzles  which  are 
invented  ad  hoc,  just  to  be  puzzles,  he  is  the  one  who  answers  to  much 
in  the  current  notion  of  mental  discipline.     But  such  a  conception 
does  not  need  to  be  argued  against.     There  is  only  discipline  when  one 
can  put  his  powers  economically,  freely,  and  fully  at  work  upon  work 
that  is  intrinsically  worth  doing.     The  failure  of  mathematics  to  fulfill 
its  boasted  function  of  discipline  is  largely  due  precisely  just  to  this 
isolation  from  application.     The  child  who  juggles  glibly  with  com- 
plex fractions  may  easily  fail  utterly  at  running  across  the  simplest  sort 
of  case  in  actual  life.    He  "  never  had  that  kind  before  ; "  or  he  doesn't 
know  "  what  rule  to  use."     Discipline  at  large  he  has  plenty  and  to 
spare;  discipline  in  capacity  to  adjust  his  own  knowledge  and  habits 
to  the  difficulties  that  arise  in  the  natural  course  of  experience  he  has 
little   of.     It  would  be  ludicrous  were   it  not  pathetic  —  and  often 
tragic.     But  this  separation  of  school  power  and  school  discipline  from 
the  everyday  work  and  requirements  of  the  world  is  inevitable  when  it 
is  thought  to  secure  discipline  by  making  up  intellectual  problems  per 
se,  instead  of  securing  the  conditions  which  compel  them  to  arise  in 
the  working  out  of  the  child's  own  nature  experience. 

CONCLUSION. 

In  conclusion  we  may  say  that  little  can  be  accomplished  by  setting 
up  interest  as  an  end  in  itself.  As  it  is  said  about  happiness,  so  with 
interest  —  it  is  best  got  when  it  is  least  consciously  aimed  at.  The 
thing  to  do  is  to  get  at  the  conditions  that  lie  back  of  and  compel 
interest — the  child's  own  powers  and  needs,  and  the  instruments  and 
materials  of  their  realization.  If  we  can  find  the  child's  urgent 
impulses  and  habits,  if  we  can  set  them  at  work  in  a  fruitful  and  orderly 
way,  by  supplying  proper  environment,  we  shall  not  need  to  bother 
much  about  his  interests ;  they  will  mostly  take  care  of  themselves. 
And  so,  I  am  most  firmly  convinced,  with  the  training  of  his  "  will." 
The  fact  is  this  supposed  divorce  of  interest  and  will  has  its  roots  and 


34 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


its  vitality  in  a  man-made  psychology,  which  has  erected  the  distinc- 
tions due  to  its  own  analytic  abstractions  into  independent  entities 
and  faculties.  Anyway  we  take  it,  there  is  only  person  —  man  or 
child  —  at  the  bottom  of  it  all,  and  whatever  really  trains  that  person, 
which  brings  order  and  power,  initiative,  and  intelligence  into  his 
experience,  is  most  certainly  training  the  will.  We  may  safely  leave  it 
to  those  who  believe  there  is  a  distinct  somewhat  named  will  in  the 
human  individual,  outside  of  and  apart  from  the  active  make-up  and 
balance  of  the  individual,  to  invent  ways  of  training  that  will.  For 
those  who  believe  that  will  is  the  name  given  to  a  certain  attitude  and 
I  process  of  the  whole  being,  to  power  of  initiative,  of  persistent  and 
intelligent  adjustment  of  means  to  end,  training  of  the  will  means  what- 
ever tends  to  growth  in  independence  and  firmness  of  action  conjoined 
with  sincere  deliberation  and  reasoned  insight. 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


35 


THE   DISCUSSION  AT  JACKSONVILLE. 

The  Herbart  Round  Table  meeting  at  Jacksonville,  Florida,  Feb- 
ruary 20,  X896,  was  attended  by  a  considerable  company  of  those  who 
hadUd  the  ^aper,  and  were  much  interested  in  the  discussion.     Dr. 

Charles  DeGarmo  presided.  MrMiirrv 

Dr  Dewey  being  absent  on  account  of  sickness,  C.  A.  McMuiry 
was  4ed Tintroluce  the  discussion  by  a  brief  statement  of  the 
lontT  Afterward  the  discussion  moved  on  without  interruption  for 
L  hour  and  a  half.  The  following  is  a  brief  statement  of  some  of  the 
"guments  offered  in  the  discussion.  This  statement  was  submitted  to 
Dr  Dewey,  who  adds  a  short  rejoinder  at  the  close. 

The  L  principal  criticism  raised  against  Dr.  Dewey's  paper  by 
Dr  Everest  and  others  was  that  some  of  the  terms  used,  such  as  sel  - 
act  vity    self-expression,  and  interest,  are  not  clearly  defined.     It  is 
r^osLe  to  tell  just  what  they  mean.     Mr.  Je-ge  ^^^--"hl; 
nested  that  a  knowledge  of  the  terminology  used  by  Dr-  Dewey  in  his 
SJchology  was  necessary  to  understand  this  paper.     Self-activity  and 
LTflpression  are  familiar  terms  in  this  field  of  thought.     The  child 
or  example,  desires  to  realize  himself  in  his  play     The  flower  and 
the  plant  are  the  self-realization  of  the  vital  forces  m  the  seed^     Self- 
expresln  is  the  natural  product  of  the  activities  at  work  in  the  plant 
andan^al.     Dr.  Everest  noticed  that  self-realization  might  be  bad^ 
Tboy  sTeks  to  realize  himself  in  evil  directions,  as  in  reading  bad 

'"S.  Harris  was  called  upon  by  Mr.  Brown  and  answered  somewhat 
as  follows :     Dr.  Dewey's  paper  was  a  very  able  production.     He  had 
"ad  it.  but  was  not   yet  fully  satisfied   as  to  its  meaning.     It  weU 
deTerves  several   readings,  as   do   all   Dr.  Dewey's   works.     He  was 
fncUned  trthink  that  Dr'  Dewey  had  forced  the  ^-^^^^^^^^^ 
nretation  of  interest.     He  seems  to  have  taken_lmjtand^lsL_tom 
^^MsophiedesRuhts.     Will  is  lEe^er  and,5ore  ..Qhe.higk 
S^Win?:"  God  makes  a  universe  of  freedom  and  evolution 

?Ms  is  tie  interpretation  of  the  artist's  work  in  the  God  who  looks 
down  from  the  Sistine  Chapel.  Will  wills  will.  ^^-^^^^^^^^^ 
s^zls  self-expression,  and  has  modified  this  to  point  toward  interest. 


I 


36 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


But  interest  points  toward  pleasure.  Kant's  criticism  of  Hedonism  is 
correct  forever  as  against  interest.  Pleasure  is  an  ambiguous  term, 
good  or  bad.  Behind  this  uncertainty  you  can  masquerade  ad  libitum. 
You  can  masquerade  behind  interest  as  an  equally  ambiguous  term. 
Interest  is  a  low  thing,  a  high  thing,  and  a  middle  thing.  It  is  a  hat 
that  covers  too  many  things.  The  good  and  the  bad  are  brought 
together  under  one  term.  The  advocates  of  interest  should  specify 
just  wnat  they  mean  under  that  term.  Self-activity  itself  is  a  law  of 
development  only  when  man  wills  to  promote  the  best  self-activity  in 
the  world  at  large.  Dr.  Dewey  is  wrong  in  this  interpretation  of  Kant. 
When  the  materials  of  instruction  have  been  selected,  it  is  the  proper 
thing  for  the  teacher  to  make  them  interesting  to  the  children. 

Dr.  White  thought  that  interest  is  a  vague  and  indefinite  term. 
Interest  does  not  lead  up  to  desire  and  motive.  If  interest  determines 
the  deed,  how  shall  we  dodge  the  conclusion  that  all  morals  break 
down  ?  It  is  easier  to  act  in  the  direction  of  interest,  but  duty  sets  its 
heel  on  interest  in  the  highest  concerns.  This  idea  of  interest  is  a 
soup  theory.  Children  should  not  be  allowed  to  run  in  the  direction 
of  their  interests.  In  all  the  real  efforts  of  life  and  of  experience,  at 
least,  we  are  called  upon  to  sacrifice  pleasure  to  duty. 

Dr.  Harris  remarked  that  Dr.  White's  idea  was  based  upon  the 
ambiguity  of  the  meaning  of  interest.  We  should  fasten  on  to  the 
real  aims  of  the  child.  Frank  McMurry  called  attention  to  the  fact 
that  love  prompts  to  action.  Dr.  White  wanted  to  know  if  love  had 
anything  to  do  with  interest.  The  reply  was  that  love  and  interest  are 
of  the  same  kind,  love  being  a  more  intense  form  of  the  other.  Mr. 
Gillan  wished  to  know  if  interest  was  present  in  the  painful ;  in  tooth- 
ache, or  in  the  amputation  of  one's  arm.  Mr.  Powell  thought  the 
effort  to  get  rid  of  pain  was  a  mediate  interest.  Mr.  Sutton  called 
attention  to  the  sentence,  beginning  as  follows:  "The  fact  that  they 
are  repulsive  indicates  that  we  do  not  consider  them  intrinsically 
connected  with  the  desired  end,"  etc.  It  was  further  remarked  that 
pain  itself  is  not  the  source  of  motive.  The  desire  for  health,  for  the 
removal  of  pain,  or  any  obstacle,  is  the  real  source  of  interest. 

Mr.  Treudley  and  Dr.  Harris  were  drawn  into  a  discussion  of  the 
will  of  man  as  related  to  the  will  of  God,  and  how  far  the  finite  will  is 
a  form  or  expression  of  the  infinite.  Toward  the  close  of  the  discus- 
sion, Charles  McMurry  raised  the  question  as  to  the  pedagogical  value 
of  interest.     Those  who  advocate  interest  as  a  vital  element  in  teach- 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


37 


ing  are  charged  with  ambiguity,  good  interests  and  ^ad  interests. 

U  L  theinu  ne  the  high  interests,  the  ideals,  which  they  wish  to  pro- 
^oe  No  one  doubts  fhis.  Herbart,  as  a  philosopher.  atten>pted  o 
:rtoutsi.  great  sources  of  -interest,  so  t^t^^^^^^^^^^^ 

1::'  0°  b!d  •  'af  ;:t  :7use  tLe  tU  and  we  understand  what  we 

"' we  neTan  answer  to  this  question  :  Shall  we  accept  Dr.  Dewey's 

^    ■    ofth!  Dsvchology  of  interest  ?     He  has  given  a  full  and  mas- 
analysiso    ^he  psychology  o  .^^^^^^^  .^  .^^^^^  .^^^^^^,^ 

terly  analysis  of  ^^^ Z^*"'^'  J°  ^^e  place  and  value  given 

desire,  motive,  and  effort.     Shall  we  accepi  ui    v  xh^  nedaso- 

by  Dr.  Dewey  to  interest  in  the  process  of  learning?    The  pedago 
gical  problem  is  a  simple  and  direct  one. 

Dr.  Dewey,  not  having  been  able  to  be  present  at  the  discussion, 
desires  to  add  the  following  to  the  foregoing  repon^       Of  c^uy  the 
•   4.^^oct    talfpn  without  explanation  or  aiscussion,  ib  au     5 

n  tr  — .y- r.  •:;■'  -rut  t:^ 

guity.     The  entire  P'=«'*'"S J  ^  j^^^  to  the  term,  on  psycho- 

genuine  meaning  >s  ^J^^ J^^^^  ^^as  to  the  proper  educational 
logical  grounds,  ^nd  -ha  th«  coro      y  ^.^^.^^  ^^^^  ^^^  ^^ 

use  of  interest     The  anal)  -s  g-en  PF  ^^  ^^^^^^^  ^^^^^^  ^^ 

quite  out  of  the  way,  but  I  ^^«  »°      ^     ^^      Discussions  of  interest. 

based  on  purely  ^bitra  y  ^^^  ^^^^  complaints  of  the 

psychological  analysis,  are  ot  v ,      ^^^^ination  of  an  attempt 

ambiguity  of  the  ^'^'^'^^'^^^^Xi-^^-^^^^  '^^y  ""^^  "•    ^  ' 
Z^:::^Z^ZS^^^^  -  be  Of  use.  no  matter 


I 


38 


INTEREST  IN  RELATION  TO 


TRAINING  OF  THE  WILL 


how  erroneous,  and  I  hope  the  foregoing  discussion  may  receive 
enough  examination  and  criticism  to  help  us  on  to  a  true  conception 
of  the  psychical  nature  and  educational  use  of  interest.  Cut  and 
dried  definitions  are  to  be  avoided  rather  than  sought  for  in  psychol- 
ogy ;  what  we  need  is  thorough  analysis  preceding  such  definitions. 
It  may  be  remarked,  however,  that  such  summarizing  definitions  occur 
in  the  previous  paper." 


39 


REFERENCES. 

"The  best  Herbartian  discussion  I  have  found  is  Walsemann,  Das 
Interesse;  with  this  may  be  compared  Grossler,  Das  vielseitige  Interesse, 
and  Vieth,  Vielseitiges  Interesse,  Kern,  Grundriss  der  Pddagogik,  is 
also  quite  explicit.  Hegel's  criticisms  on  Kant  are  scattered  all 
through  his  works,  as  sec.  135  of  his  Philosophie  des  Rechts,  but  are 
best  summed  up  in  his  works.  Vol.  II,  pp.  304  ff.  The  quotation  from 
Hegel  is  found  in  Philosophie  des  Geistes,  sec.  475.  He  also  says  in 
this  same  paragraph  that  the  agent  never  acts  without  interest." 

The  following  references  to  recent  discussions  of  interest  in 
English  are  added  by  the  editor : 

Herbart:  Allgemeine  Pddagogik,  zweites  Buch,  "Vielseitigkeit  des 
Interesse,"  translated  by  Felkin,  in  Science  of  Education,  Book  II, 
chap.  I.     D.  C.  Heath  &  Co. 

Ziller :  Lehre  vom  erziehenden  Unterricht,  B  (chap.  2) ;  Interesse 
und  Begehren,  p.  316;  Allgemeine  Pddagogik,  pp.  242,  259,  etc.  Pub- 
lished by  Heinrich  Matthes,  Leipzig. 

Rein -Van  Liew:    Outlines  of  Pedagogics  y  pp.  89,  93,  etc. 

McMurry,  C.  A. :    General  Method,  chap.  3,  p.  69. 

Wilson,  W.  E.:  "The  Doctrine  of  Interest,"  Educational  Review, 
March,  1896. 

'  McMurry,  Frank:  "Interest,  Some  Objections,"  ^^i!^<r^//i7«tf/i?<?z;/>a', 
February,  1896. 

Brown,  George  P. :  "  Educative  Interests,"  Public  School  Journal, 
February,  1896. 

DeGarmo,  Charles :  "A  Dynamic  Theory  of  Will,"  Public  School 
/ournal,  February,  1896. 

"Is  Herbart's  Theory  of  Interest  Dangerous?"  Public  School 
Journal,  May,  1896. 

Harris,  W.  T. :  "Interest  and  Will,"  Education,  March,  1896 ;  Public 
School  Journal,  March,  1896.  ^ 

Warren,  H.  A.:  "The  Law  of  Interest,"  Public  School  Journal, 
December,  1895. 

McMurry,  C.  A. :  "The  Chapter  on  Interest,"  Public  School  Journal, 
November,  1895. 


I 


\ 


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